Relative Truth
by Becky Tailweaver
Summary: When your highest goal is the pursuit of the truth, what do you do when you find out your whole life is a lie? Kudo Shinichi must face the mystery of his past, but its secrets may shatter all his hopes for the future. And what of Kaitou Kid...?
1. First Contact...And What Happened After

(Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

_Opening Theme: "**Truth**" by _**Two-Mix**

  
**File 1: First Contact...And What Happened After**

When Kaitou Kid, the Phantom Thief, returned from his initial preparations to steal the Suzuki family's Black Star pearl, the first thing he wanted to do was find out who had nearly caught him during the recent Clock Tower incident. 

Someone had been directing the actions of the policemen at the Tower, guiding them with a skill and expertise that had Kid on his toes and off his guard the whole time. He'd spent more time dodging the police than he had actually accomplishing his goal. He'd almost been _late_ because of that someone. 

No _way_ Inspector Nakamori was _that_ smart. He'd been evading the man for almost a year now, and the Inspector had _never_ come so close to catching him. _Someone_ had put some _brains_ behind that operation--and some very good brains at that. 

The guy in the helicopter, the one who'd found him out at every turn, who'd cornered him _repeatedly_, and very nearly _gotten_ him... 

He wanted to know who it was that had almost matched the peerless Kid. 

It didn't take all that much research. A simple, innocent question after a carefully guided conversation, put to Aoko Nakamori, the daughter of Chief Inspector Ginzo Nakamori. It had gotten him a quick--and rather heated, according to Aoko--answer to his quiery. 

_Shinichi Kudo_. 

Shinichi Kudo had been sitting in that helicopter, guiding the police force's actions. 

Kaito Kuroba wasn't unfamiliar with the name. One had only to look at the newspaper now and again--and he did a _lot_ of reading to catch up on the responses to his own exploits. He'd seen the name in passing--some fairly popular student detective, a boy about his own age who seemed to have a knack for solving cases. Since Kaito wasn't all that interested in murder mysteries, he hadn't really followed the guy's career. 

But then, he'd just run up against this guy, and had come close to being undone. Now Shinichi Kudo was more than just another detective on his case--he'd become a potential threat. A threat on a level that Kaito had never even really considered before. 

So he'd done some digging, in both newspapers and police records--with a bit of "help" from Kid, of course--to find out just who this Shinichi Kudo was. 

It wasn't until he'd done this research that Kaito discovered just what he was up against. 

Shinichi Kudo had more than just a _knack_ for solving cases. The guy had never missed a mark--he'd solved _every_ case he'd ever assisted with. Kudo came close to a detective genius, able to reconstruct the circumstances of each and every crime based on even the smallest bit of evidence. No matter how tiny the detail, he saw it; no matter how inconsequential, he remembered it. Not one criminal had ever escaped his skill at deduction. "_A modern Sherlock Holmes,_" one newspaper caption said. 

"Holy cow!" he'd whispered in something close to admiration, once he'd gone through several records about Kudo. "_This_ guy was after me? Whoa..." He'd sniggered to himself then, feeling rather accomplished now that he knew who it was that he'd outwitted. "Just goes to show how good I am at what I do!" 

But in his heart, he knew that Shinichi Kudo was not a foe to be underestimated. Although chasing Kaitou Kid was very different from quietly solving a murder case, Kudo had directed the police with ease and confidence, gathering, assimilating, and reacting according to the data provided to him as if he'd been standing right beside Kid himself the whole time. The phantom thief had been cut off at every turn. 

Kaito knew he might not be so lucky the next time he crossed paths with the high school detective. 

But then, Kudo concentrated on murder mysteries. He wasn't all that interested in "mere" thieves. 

Kaito's first drive at the Black Star had been a feint, to provoke action from the police and see if Inspector Nakamori would be able to respond, and in what manner. And also, just out of a bit of curiosity, to see if Kudo would appear; since no one before Kid had ever escaped him, he might be interested in a rematch. 

Kid wasn't expecting a little boy to show up at his forewarned arrival spot, as if waiting for him. He wasn't expecting that boy to face him without trepidation or retreat. He wasn't expecting that kind of fearless gaze from such a young face. 

And he _certainly_ wasn't expecting that boy to simply turn around and give him away with a little bottle rocket in a pop can used as a flare signal. Then there was the boy's half-grinning comment that the police helicopters were coming their way--and shouldn't Kid be running away? 

As if the boy were mocking him--as if this brat were the one in control of the situation. But then again, he _wasn't_--he was just a little boy with a bottle rocket in a pop can. 

It was all so innocent...and all so out-of-place. Just..._weird_. 

Poker Face had almost gone bye-bye for a second there. 

He'd just had to ask. "Tell me...you're not an ordinary kid, are you?" 

Finally, the little boy had turned to look at him again. "Conan Edogawa," he'd replied, in a voice just too confident, too calm. "Detective." 

And for the second time, Kid's well-trained Poker Face had almost given way to raised eyebrows. He'd never seen a look like _that_ from a little kid--shrewd, self-assured, dauntless, bold. Conan Edogawa had..._knowing_ eyes. And that gave Kid just a bit of the shivers. 

And the boy recognized him as the elusive Kaitou Kid. He was too confident, too utterly unafraid, his keen-edged blue gaze almost _daring_ Kid to try something. A strange, _strange_ little boy; there was something _very_ fishy about Conan Edogawa, and it gave Kaito an odd foreboding. It took a damn smart guy to figure out the riddles of the famous Kid, and if this child _knew_ him, had actually _solved_ his puzzle, _and had been expecting him_... 

Well, Conan Edogawa had certainly put a bit of a kink in the works. The boy's presence had definitely accelerated his departure from the scene, that was sure. He would have at least been able to have a good half-hour's worth of fun with Inspector Nakamori if the kid hadn't arrived at the roof and signaled to the cops. At least Kudo hadn't shown up that time. 

With his initial feint out of the way, Kaito's challenge to Mrs. Suzuki was clear. He'd get the Black Star on the Queen Elizabeth cruise for sure. And the Black Star operation would go off without a hitch--Kudo wouldn't be there. 

At least, Kaito _hoped_ he wouldn't be there. He was going to be isolating himself on a ship full of people who already knew he was coming. The last thing he needed was for a wizard of a detective to show up and get him arrested. Bad enough that clever fellow Kogoro Mouri was coming along. 

Well, his arrest was simply _not_ going to happen. Kaitou Kid was peerless--there hadn't been a detective born who could outsmart him. 

"_Keep your friends close and your enemies closer._" 

Kaito believed in that old saying, and he followed that precept dilligently. Since Shinichi Kudo seemed to have disappeared off the face of the Earth by the time the operation date came--and good riddance, too--he'd figured out a plan to keep that smart little boy and the famous detective both in his pocket for the duration of the Black Star heist. 

By disguising himself as Mouri's daughter, Ran, neither the great detective nor the clever kid would be able to catch him. He'd be in and out with the pearl and they'd never even _guess_. 

Looking back on it, he supposed he shouldn't have been so damn overconfident. 

Acting as Ran, he got an up close and personal look at how Kogoro Mouri worked--and in his opinion, the man was almost as great a bumbling fool as Nakamori. But that little boy, Conan Edogawa--he was something else. There was a shrewdness, a _cleverness_ about him that Kaito had never seen in such a young child. Conan seemed to notice everything, seemed to ask too many pointed questions, seemed far too intelligent... 

Little Conan had a _look_ about him, especially when he grew quiet and contemplative; something in his blue eyes seemed to indicate that a powerful, piercing intellect was hard at work behind the face of an innocent young kid. Those weren't the eyes of a seven-year-old boy wondering about a mystery--they were the eyes of a man who _knew_ things about this puzzle that no child could understand. 

At that point, Kaito had tossed off a weird notion about shrinking people into little kids with arcane magic. But then, he was a _magician_, not a wizard. 

But...Conan's _eyes_... 

And strangely, he even seemed to know when Kaito _watched_ him. Conan would grow restless, agitated, glancing around suspiciously, whenever Kaito spent too long looking at him, too long evaluating him. The boy almost had a sixth sense about being stared at--as though he could sense a culprit's intent. Kaito was seriously wondering just what went on inside Conan Edogawa's head, what made the kid tick--and resolved to spend this trip studying the clever little fellow, when he wasn't involved in getting at the Black Star. 

But even _then_, even after realizing there was more to the boy than met the eye, he'd been too confident. He didn't know when little Conan had caught on to him, but he figured that it had to have been pretty early on once the heist got moving in earnest. Kaito hadn't had the time to duck away and ditch the Ran Mouri disguise in the commotion; Conan had latched on to his hand like a leech and dragged "Ran-neechan" off, stating that he knew exactly what was going on. 

In retrospect, maybe he should have cut his losses and run for it then. But his professionalism wouldn't let him drop his Ran act so easily, so he'd followed the kid... 

Even though those piercing eyes had given him that same shiver all over again... 

Conan Edogawa had led him to--no, make that _cornered_ him in the engine room. Bouncing that blasted soccer ball, speaking in a bright, cheerful, matter-of-fact little-kid voice as if discussing his day at school--and calmly laying out a flawless example of logic and deduction. Conan knew it all--the location of the pearl, how Kid had stolen it, the method of narrowing down suspects, and then... 

And then that little-kid voice had disappeared in all but its pitch--and he realized that Conan Edogawa had found him out. 

To his own credit, he _tried_--he really did--to fool the little guy back into believing he was Ran Mouri. But the boy was just too damn smart for that--he already understood everything. _Everything_. As if he'd walked through Kaitou Kid's plan with him beforehand. Conan was so dead-on accurate it was _eerie_. 

Kaito's unbreakable Poker Face had actually _cracked_ then--just a bit. 

_I am so very, **very** screwed..._ he'd thought briefly. 

Escape was his immediate plan. Fleeing directly was not an option--they'd spot him in an instant--so he had to get out in a crowd. Using the ship's intercom phone to get a crowd of _policemen_ was a daring gamble, but he'd done such things before. It should have been easy enough. 

But Conan had been there for his first misdirection, and wouldn't be fooled by the same trick twice. The comm-phone had exploded right beside Kaito's head, and it took him a second to realize that the boy had just _kicked_ the _soccer ball_ right at it--with more force than should have been possible given his size. Those piercing blue eyes were on him again, as the ball rolled back to Conan's feet, and there was not a trace of childishness in that gaze. 

Kaito got the shivers again, and it seemed for an instant that he wasn't looking at a little boy. For _just_ an instant there was a young man standing there, with _that look_--the look that said, "_I've got you, I win_." 

It was then that Kaito realized that he was in deeper trouble than he'd initially thought. Conan Edogawa wasn't going to give him an _inch_. The great Kaitou Kid had just been backed into a corner by a little boy who didn't even reach his waist--_But what a weird little boy, with those knowing eyes and that laser-keen logic; who the hell **is** this kid?_--and if he didn't think of something _now_, his goal of avenging his father's murder was going to turn into dreams and smoke just like a magician's art. 

It was insane. It was a trump card that, given different circumstances, even _he_ would never have thought to play. It was an idea that he might never have been so desperate as to use. 

It was also a trick that would never--_should_ never have worked on a six or seven-year-old boy. A _teenager_, maybe, but not a little grade-schooler who didn't even know what girls _were_ yet, much less cared about the implications of womens' undergarments. 

But making him think that Kid had stolen _all_ of Ran Mouri's clothes to impersonate her..._that_ had stopped Conan Edogawa in his tracks with flaming cheeks and an utterly _shocked_ look on his face. A moment's slip was all he needed, but even so, Kaito's margin of escape had been as thin as rice paper in that very same moment. He'd had to ditch most of his equipment to fit--literally--into the role he'd chosen, and all he'd had with him were a couple of small smoke bombs and flash grenades. 

They had sure saved his skin that time. But _damn_...that had been _way_ too close. If that kick that took out the intercom was any indication, Conan was downright _dangerous_ with a soccer ball. If he'd messed up...he didn't even want to _think_ about what that ball might have done to the back of his head...! 

It absolutely _galled_ him that he'd had to tuck and run with his tail between his legs, unable even to leave the scene in his usual stylish manner. All he could do was skitter like a rabbit out of the engine room, duck the cops on patrol on the deck, and fling himself off the boat before anybody _else_ caught him. He'd had an icy swim back to shore, gotten a terrible cold while covering up his escape, _and_ he'd had to hand over the Black Star pearl he'd worked quite hard to steal. All thanks to one little brat. 

No, not just one little brat. 

A quick, skillful, observant, eerily intelligent young boy. Conan Edogawa, Detective. 

He'd spent a bit of time pouting about it, after that failed heist. One boy--just a little kid! He had _never_ been thus thwarted before--_**never!**_ Positively miffed, he'd stewed for a few days, quite resentful that the peerless Kaitou Kid had been outmaneuvered--however temporarily--by a little boy. 

After he'd gotten over his cold and his quiet little tantrum, his brain returned to its regularly scheduled intellect--and he began to put some very disturbing pieces together. 

Conan Edogawa, a seven-year-old grade-schooler, had figured him out precisely not once, but _twice_. The first time had been no fluke--sure, a little kid just _happened_ to show up on top of a hotel roof with a bottle rocket at half past midnight. _Right_. 

That was no mere chance; the kid had to have puzzled out his initial riddle. How Conan had managed that when the rest of the police force had been stumped was a mystery even to Kaito. It hadn't been one of his more difficult riddles, to be honest; but still, it was _Conan_ who'd taken the hint and shown up to challenge him--not Inspector Nakamori. The police had only come in response to the boy's hint. 

And the second time... 

No way in _Hell_ that was a fluke. Kaito had witnessed a little detective genius at work; he'd been standing beside the kid the whole time, getting goosebumps from those too-intelligent eyes--why hadn't he caught a clue then? He would have been more careful, if only he'd _known_; he should have seen it sooner--that deduction was way too much for a child. And in the engine room, that trick with the underwear--_why_ had that worked on a seven-year-old boy? Why had little Conan Edogawa frozen in place, blushing and gaping? Why would a child like that even care to think about Ran Mouri _that_ way? 

Whatever the reason, the trick had worked--but Kid had lost a game for the first time in his young criminal career. And he was _not_ pleased about the blight on his record. 

But...there was _something_ about Conan. Only one other had ever thwarted one of his heists, and that had been the famous Shinichi Kudo, young Detective. What was up with the little boy? 

Kaito Kuroba had made Conan Edogawa his case study for quite a while after that. When Kid wasn't planning heists and making off with the goods, he was keeping a casual eye on the Mouri Detective Agency--and one small resident in particular. He made sure he didn't watch Conan _too_ closely--he knew from experience that the kid had a sense about that. 

He'd even had the opportunity to go into some cases side by with Conan, getting an up close and personal look at how Ran, Mouri, and Conan worked together. Uncannily, the little boy would pick him out from the crowd no matter who he'd disguised himself as, forcing him to duck out before getting captured. He was always on his toes in such times, never knowing when Conan might have spotted him--or when the kid might decide to make a move. 

Kaito had also been able to witness one of the times Shinichi Kudo had returned. It had been startling to see the high school detective as large as life, not as some little newspaper picture; there he was, Kaitou Kid's ultimate rival, the great "modern-day Sherlock Holmes." Even more startling to notice for the first time a not-quite-mirror image of his own features in the other youth's face--but even more than _that_ was the fact that Shinichi Kudo seemed _familiar_, and not just from the newspapers. 

Not just his face, or those piercingly intelligent eyes--but his voice, his manner, his stride, his expressions. Kaito was a master at reading people, at watching them and learning their every move, their every nuance--all the better to mimic them when he needed to. Just watching Kudo, he got the craziest feeling that he knew the guy. From somewhere...or from some_one_. 

Kudo's method of solving a mystery closely matched little Conan's--the logic, the deduction, the eye for detail, the memory of every piece of evidence. Watching Kudo run down the facts and march flawlessly through an explanation of the exact crime committed, Kaito got the odd impression that he was watching a snippet of an event from the future--what little Conan-kun would be like someday, with that powerful intellect and perfect deduction. Kudo and Conan even had the same eyes... 

The idea had hit him suddenly then, absurd and insane and so utterly wild it was almost believable. 

Conan Edogawa and Shinichi Kudo--the same person? No freaking _way_--this was the real world. Even his own "magic" wasn't really _magic_--just smoke and mirrors, feathers and glitter, a magician's art. Shrinking people into kids? If there was such a miracle on the market, old people all around the world would be rejoicing. 

But...was it possible? Even remotely so? 

Maybe. Maybe not. But still... 

Apparently Ran Mouri suspected the same thing. Conan's oftentimes mad scramble to prove her wrong only seemed to prove her _right_--that a little kid really _did_ have something like _that_ to hide. 

Even though he knew it was nuts, Kaito was almost ninety percent sure that Conan and Kudo were the same person. Like with Miss Mouri, certainty and doubt hovered in his mind, and the constant misdirection kept even he, Kaito Kuroba, guessing as to the real truth. 

After quite a while, he finally received confirmation--and he had the Detective of the West, Heiji Hattori, to thank for it. Out of sheer luck or random chance, he hadn't even been _looking_ to find out at the time. 

He'd been on a planning trip, scoping out some _very_ fine prospects just outside of Osaka. Just minding his own business, really, gathering the information he'd need to pull off his heists. That's when it all simply fell on him--a young man's rough voice speaking, "Hey, Kudo, are you sure about this?" And a clear, serious reply spoken in an all-too-familiar little-boy voice--a little-boy voice that had nothing little about it except for its timbre--"Sure, Hattori. I can't think of any other explanation..." 

_Conan's_ voice. _That_ had made Kaito's head crank around--_What on Earth is **he** doing in Osaka?_--and there he was, standing beside a tall, tanned young man in jeans. Conan and this Hattori fellow continued to converse even as Kaito hung by to listen--and Hattori addressed Conan as "Kudo" clearly and repeatedly. Conan replied without hesitating or correcting him. 

Not wanting to attract attention to himself--he felt rather goggle-eyed and slack-jawed--he'd reeled off as quickly as he safely could. The Osaka venture was indefinitely postponed while he worked this development out. Lord knows even the greatest of minds would have trouble grasping an idea such as this! 

Conan was Kudo. Kudo was Conan. 

_Insane_. 

It was almost as freaky as the idea of a magic gem that cried tears of immortality elixer during a comet's pass. Neck-and-neck on the Weird-O-Meter. 

But then...it made perfect _sense_, too. The only man who'd ever outwitted him--from the very beginning in that police chopper--was Shinichi Kudo. Not a little boy--Shinichi Kudo himself. 

Good Lord, he'd been skating on the edge of disaster every time he'd crossed paths with that "little kid." He just hadn't _known_--that was no boy. That was Kudo in there, every bit of him--razor wits and flawless deduction, all of it. Once that fact had been assimilated--once he got used to the idea of Shinichi Kudo having been shrunk into a grade-schooler--he could _see_ it any time he looked at his nemesis. 

With understanding came curiosity; one thing he and Kudo shared was an insatiable amount of it. First and foremost, he wondered how the hell an up-and-coming detective genius had managed to get himself into _that_ kind of wacky situation--and how on Earth he was handling it. Conan/Kudo became once again his case study, and he spent a great deal of his free time picking up bits and pieces of information and putting them together. 

Jii Kounosuke--his father's old assistant and Kaito's "mentor" of sorts--became aware of his new little hobby almost immediately, but remained remarkably close-mouthed about it for the longest time. For a while, the surest way to make the old man clam up was to mention the name "Kudo." 

And for a while, Kaito ignored it. Until he assimilated his data--that Kudo had been attacked by some kind of crime syndicate, and fed a poison which had failed to kill him and instead turned him into a child--it didn't really matter. 

Until his digging uncovered some disturbing connections between the "Black Organization" that had done this to Kudo and the group that had killed Kaito's father. 

Parts of the same whole--or merely partners in the same game? There was little difference; Kaito immediately realized that he and Kudo's interests might be linked. And in their case, two heads just might be better than one...that is, _if_ Mister Detective was ever in a listening mood. They might be able to negotiate some information sharing, if nothing else; when it came to avenging his father's murder, Kaito was willing to stoop even to consorting with the "enemy." 

Strangely, Jii grew oddly disturbed when Kaito announced that he was going to start feeling out Shinichi Kudo, to see if the thief and the detective might be of use to each other. Kaito continued his Kudo-watching on his "off time" between heists, and things continued at a level pace for a time...until Kaito happened to be thumbing through his father's old notes and files--kept in a dusty filing cabinet in the secret room--and spotted several references to someone named Yuusaku Kudo. 

His father had run up against an amateur detective by that name, and had been thwarted several times. Kaitou Kid vs. Kudo had happened before, years ago. 

And _now_, the two of them... Mere coincidence...or fate? 

But his father's notes were written in anger and sadness, full of confusingly vague references to friendship and betrayal, trust and broken bonds. This older Kudo was someone important, someone his father had _known_. And with his father gone, only one man alive still knew the answers to his questions. 

Kaito immediately cornered Jii and demanded to know about Yuusaku Kudo--and his connection to Shinichi. Who were they, and how was it that they could defeat even the matchless Kid? It couldn't be a coincidence--not with Shinichi's uncanny mind and the way Kaito's father described Yuusaku's skills. 

Jii was, again, saddened and disturbed. But when Kaito pressed him, he relented, taking a deep quiet breath to tell his tale. 

"I don't know how you'll take this, young Master," the old man began, "but all I can tell you is what I know of the truth. It started many years ago, when your father was still a young man..." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
_Author's Note: Just another little **thank you** to my dear friend Ysabet, who has once again prodded me into posting! I owe so much to her! _**^_^ Thanks again, Ysabet!**

So go read her Detective Conan_ fanfics--they're absolutely wonderful! _


	2. A Change in the Game

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 2: A Change in the Game**

_*Some time later...*_

Professor Agasa didn't even look up from his work when his front door opened; he knew who the likely culprits would be--any of three young would-be detectives and their reluctant leader. Judging by the length of time the door was open, there was only one or two of the scamps in his house. By the lack of chatter or hullaballoo, he surmised that there was indeed only one. And that one--by the silence and the steady quiet pace of his footsteps--would have to be Conan Edogawa; none of the other Young Detectives simply _walked_ anywhere. 

Pleased with his quiet deductions, Agasa snuck a look over his shoulder at the right moment--there went Conan, right past the door. The Professor mentally patted himself on the back for his little bit of mystery-solving before going back to his project. 

There was the _shuffle-thump_ of a small backpack hitting the floor, from somewhere in the vicinity of the kitchen. _Scoot-creeeak_ went a chair. Silence reigned for a moment--then suddenly his house echoed with a yell that seemed to summarize all the loneliness, anger, and frustration that could be found within the heart of a certain boy. 

"_Aaaaaarrrrgh!_" _**Thump!**_

It was the latter noise that alarmed Professor Agasa the most. Normally, he could ignore Conan's occasional outbursts; they were usually a simple loud complaint or a short outcry--not long, and thank goodness not often, but sometimes the poor boy needed to vent. But his vents did not usually include breaking furniture or throwing things or any other such immaturity. 

That given, Agasa hopped up from his workbench and hustled into the kitchen, hoping he wouldn't find a soccer ball embedded in the wall or some such. 

He was surprised to find his walls and windows whole--and even more astonished to find Conan sitting at the kitchen table, fists and forehead resting on the tabletop. His glasses rested sedately beside his left arm. 

_Ah,_ the Professor thought with a raised eyebrow. _So **that's** what made the thump._

At least Conan had taken his glasses off before he'd attempted to crack open his skull. Not really sure how to begin to inquire, the Professor cleared his throat softly. 

Conan lifted his head. "This sucks." 

"Er...?" 

"This sucks!" With that proclamation, Conan proceeded to bang his forehead upon the table again, punctuating each word. "This--totally--completely--_sucks!_" 

Agasa moved in to restrain him before the poor boy gave himself brain damage--such a powerful mind would be a shame to waste on this rudimentary form of stress relief. "Wait, wait a minute, Shinichi! Hold up!" Once he managed to keep Conan's forehead away from the tabletop, he forced the boy to look at him. "What's the matter with you today?" 

He was startled to note the intense gratitude in Conan's eyes. "Thank you!" the boy sighed. "Finally! No one's called me 'Shinichi' in _three days_. I needed to hear that." 

Agasa stepped back. "Is _that_ what you were upset about?" 

"No..." Conan made a move toward the table--which Agasa almost intercepted--but he only folded his arms and rested his chin on them. "I _really_ wanted to go..." 

"Go? Where?" Agasa pulled up a chair. He really had pressing things to do with his experiments in the other room, but the mental health of his young charge did take precedence over soldering. Shinichi had been a bright young man of seventeen with a budding career in homicide investigation--and then it had all been ripped away by a shadow organization's little pill of backfired poison that reduced him to a child. Something like that was bound to have some major psychological impacts, very few of which Shinichi Kudo ever let show. 

"I wanted to go to the signing," Conan muttered--no, he wasn't Conan right then, not today. _Shinichi_. "But they made me go to school instead." 

"A book signing?" 

"Yeah," Shinichi sighed. "At Tokyo Municipal Library--you know, the _big_ one. It isn't exclusively a mystery novel session, but a couple of my favorite authors are there...and one of them--I have three of his books in first-edition print, and I was hoping to get them signed." 

"But...?" 

Shinichi sat up, his eyes lighting with anger. "But Ran and Ojisan made me stay here and go to school! Dammit, I begged and begged, and even said I wanted to get _Shinichi's_ books signed for him--I thought Ran would jump at that!--but _nooo_, it's not for little kids, I'd be much too bored, 'Go to school like a good boy, Conan-kun, and I'll see you when we get back this evening.'" His head hit the table yet again with a rather resonant _thump_. "God, this _sucks!_" 

Feeling a little harried, Agasa pulled the boy away from the table--all but lifting him bodily out of the chair. "There now, quit that before you give yourself a concussion. Go lie down on the couch, and I'll whip up some iced tea. Go on, now." 

Scuffing his feet, Shinichi stomped out of the kitchen. "Oh, is that supposed to just make it all better?" 

"Come now, act your age, Shinichi!" 

As he headed for the couch, Shinichi caught his reflection in the sunlit glass of the front window--_Conan's_ reflection. "I am!" he tossed back hotly, throwing himself down on the couch. _I'm seven years old and three feet tall--I can pitch a fit if I want to,_ he thought sullenly. 

He scowled furiously at the wall in a funk of resentment. Not even a genuine murder mystery would cheer him up right now. He was mad for being left behind, mad that Ran hadn't stood up for him in front of her father--and _damn_ sick of being treated like a kid. _"Conan-kun" this and "little boy" that--not to mention Sonoko's endearing little "Chibi-chan." Enough is enough--haven't the heavens tired of their amusement yet?_

Thank God for Professor Agasa. If one more person had called him "Conan-kun" today, he might have popped. He had to keep up his disguise and all...but sometimes he just got _tired_ of being someone he wasn't. Normally he had the resolve to shrug these things off; he was strong-willed and strong of heart...but things had been coming one after another lately. 

Several tough cases he almost hadn't solved because of meddling adults shooing him away or brushing him off. Two whole murders that hadn't been correctly deduced because they'd left him behind. Ran forgetting she'd promised to take him to the bookstore, to the movie, to the police station, because she'd been busy or going somewhere with Sonoko--and he couldn't go _himself_ because he was "a little kid." Ayumi being particularly cute and clingy, causing Genta and Mitsuhiko's chain reaction of abuse and irritation--above and beyond the usual annoyance. School being an utter, mind-numbing _bore_. 

It had just been one of those days...hell, one of those _weeks_. The humiliation of his enforced acting career had temporarily become too much to bear. 

"Here you are, Shinichi!" Agasa came in with a tall glass of tea--very tall, full of ice, with a nice long straw. Shinichi took it and began to gulp, feeling the coolness start to wash away his dull irritation and temper. There was no way he could finish all of this; a super-size tea didn't fit into a pint-sized stomach. But a "bottomless" drink was just what he needed right now. 

Heaven... Someone called him by his real name, spoke to him as an adult, listened to him without condescension. A nice cold iced tea on a soft couch. 

Set down the load. Drop the mask. Deep breath. Hit reset. 

"Ahhh..." He looked up and smiled. "Thanks, Professor Agasa! That really hit the spot." 

"So the tea really _did_ make it all better," said the older man, sitting down across from him. "And here I thought nothing would." 

Shinichi chuckled sheepishly. "Um...sorry about that. I've had a hard week." 

"It's a good thing you have a hard head." 

"Ow..." The boy gingerly rubbed the tender spot on his forehead. "Yeah, I guess that _was_ kind of stupid." 

Agasa shook his head. "Don't worry about it. You ought to relax for a while, before you start your homework." 

"Hah...that'll take all of five minutes." Shinichi rolled his eyes, then smiled. "Thanks for the friendly ear, Professor. And the tea." 

"Any time, Shinichi." 

With the matter settled and Shinichi's sanity once again restored, the heavyset Professor returned to his work. Shinichi/Conan remained sprawled on the couch, glasses forgotten in the kitchen, nursing his nice tall iced tea. He fished the TV remote out of the cushions and switched it on, boredly flipping channels until he could find something of interest. 

**Click.** "_--Mega-brand cleaning products will make your home--_" 

**Click.** "_--'Ken, please don't leave me!' ... 'Michiko, I must--'_" 

**Click.** "_--is the number three! Can you say 'three?' This is the number that--_" 

**Click.** "_--interrupt this program to give you live coverage of a robbery in progress--_" 

**Click.** "_--port side! Battle stations, all hands! Fire when ready!--_" 

Shinichi blinked. "Wait a second..." Curious, he turned back one channel to the live news report. The shots seemed to be being taken from a helicopter, but he didn't recognize the scenery. Definitely in a city, but he couldn't tell where. There were other helicopters, flashing lights on the streets below, searchlights, and sirens could be heard in the background. The entire area seemed to be in an uproar. 

_All this for a robbery?_ he wondered to himself, settling in to listen. 

"_--live from Yokohama, we are here at the scene of the Kaitou Kid's latest heist. We are filming this event as it occurs, from the vantage point of a police chopper. Apparently--_" 

Shinichi sat straight up off the couch, coming close to sending his tea flying. "_Kaitou Kid?_" 

"_--has set his sights on the famous Owl's Eye of the Hirose family, kept here at the Third Branch of the Japan National Bank in Yokohama. Police and Bank Security have combined their efforts to ensnare this artful thief, but so far he is proving to be an elusive target. So far, Kid's exact location has not been confirmed, but the police have informed us that he is still within the building. As part of the joint--_" 

"No..." Shinichi gritted his teeth. "Not _again!_ Dammit..." 

"_--National Bank has promised their full cooperation. At this very moment, the police have surrounded the building, while the National Bank security team members lead groups of officers into the bank in an attempt to net the Kid. Once his location has been narrowed down--_" 

Shinichi leaned forward, scowling. "No, don't give him crowds! You idiots, that's exactly what he wants!" 

"_--police should be able to make the arrest. Law enforcement has apparently decided to seal off the lower portions of the building in an attempt to drive the Kid to the upper floors, where he won't have the opportunity to escape. If we're lucky, Kaitou Kid will be driven to the roof where we will be able to witness the capture of this legendary thief! Ah--it appears another team of police are moving in--_" 

"_Arrgh!_" He glared at the screen, hands fisting. "What nincompoop got put in charge of that operation? You can't 'seal' Kid out of anything! And who says driving him upstairs will corner him? He _flies_, you morons! Oh for Pete's sake...!" 

Exasperated, he flopped back against the cushions. "...utterly _brain dead_. I swear, they _never_ learn..." 

"_--and something's emerging from the door on the roof! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare to witnes...ah, no, it appears to be a group of police officers. They are fanning out over the roof... Uh, our contact here in the police helicopter has informed us that the teams inside the building report no sign of Kaitou Kid...the upper stories have been sealed, so it's only a matter of time--_" 

Unable to bear it any longer, Shinichi turned off the television. "That is _so_ pathetic," he grumbled. "Knowing him, he probably _is_ one of those guys on the roof. Or he just walked out the front door before they even got their blockades up. What a bunch of dunderheads." He sighed. "Idiots. He already has the Owl's Eye. If I were still Shinichi Kudo, I could've been there...dammit, I could've been there!" 

He rested on the couch, staring at the ceiling, but the brief moment of excitement had gotten the wheels in his head turning. _Yokohama this time, huh?_ he pondered. _And the Japan National Bank, even. He's really been gunning for some high-profile goods lately--a lot tougher targets. He always goes after the big gaudy jewels...I wonder if his wish list is getting thin? He's already taken a lot of them, and there's only so many large gems in the world any more..._

His eyes flashed wide as he sat up straight. "_That's it!_" he crowed, leaping off the couch. "Why didn't I think of it before?" 

He sprinted for Professor Agasa's workroom. "Professor! Professor! I need to use your computer!" 

Shutting off his noisy welding torch, Agasa turned around on his work stool, lifting the safety mask from his face. "Hm? What's that?" 

Shinichi was in full-blown Mystery Solving Mode, his blue eyes lit up like stars. "Can I use the computer in your office? I just saw on the news that Kaitou Kid is at it again, and I've got an idea!" 

Agasa's brows went up. "Going after Kid again? My, that's a difficult job, even for you--" 

"Professor! Can I?" 

"Huh? Oh, sure, sure! Go...right ahead..." 

Shinichi was gone before he could finish speaking. Shaking his head with a knowing smile, Agasa turned back to his work. 

Dashing into the Professor's office, Shinichi stacked two technical manuals on the chair and plunked himself down atop them, his fingers blurring into motion on the keyboard. There, in the Professor's files, was a database on Kaitou Kid, along with a list of the jewels and other valuables that had been stolen. Shinichi's eyes scanned the list rapidly, noting each type of item and the frequency that type was targeted. 

Once he logged in to the vast network of the Internet, he began looking for any information about gems that matched or exceeded a certain size, privately or publicly owned, either free or set into jewelry, especially translucent or semi-translucent stones, and particularly sapphires, amethysts, or emeralds. 

Data rapidly began to compile as he ran search after search, then scanned each result while yet another search ran. He noted names, places, types, values, security measures, recording each as he went and adding it to his growing database of potential Kid heists. The pace at which he gathered information would have astonished even an accomplished reasearcher. 

The data kept coming, while Shinichi's clever smile kept growing. Kaitou Kid's list of targets was indeed narrowing. And as it did, his appearances would be easier to predict--and plan for. 

At last, Shinichi began to grin. 

* * * * *

The second interruption came from the doorbell, this time. Agasa was once again forced to leave his work behind to answer it, muttering to himself about how busy it was today. He opened the door, somehow not surprised to see the smiling face of Ran Mouri greeting him pleasantly. 

"Hello, Professor Agasa! How are you this evening?" 

"Oh, Ran-kun!" Agasa stepped back to let her through. "Won't you come in? Conan said you and Mouri-san went to a book signing today." 

"Conan's here?" The girl paused, smiling. "It figures. Actually, I can't stay long, Professor. I just came to drop something off here." She held out a small package wrapped in paper. "I know Shinichi comes by here sometimes, and I was wondering if you could give this to him when you see him." 

Agasa took the package, brows raised. "I can; that's no problem." 

"And I suppose I can take Conan-kun home with me..." 

"Oh, don't worry about that, Ran-kun!" the Professor answered quickly. "He's, er, doing his homework right now. I can walk him home when he's done." 

"Are you sure it wouldn't be a bother?" Ran asked, peering around Agasa as if expecting to see Conan waiting for her. She apparently hadn't noticed his backpack--his undone homework still in it--sitting in the hall by the kitchen door. 

"No, no trouble at all!" Agasa replied a little too eagerly. "You run along now, Ran-kun. I'll make sure he gets home safe and sound." 

"Well...okay." Reluctantly, Ran stepped back outside. "Just...please...make sure Shinichi gets that package." 

Agasa nodded solemnly. "You have my word, he'll get it as soon as I see him." 

When she was gone, Agasa shut his door with a sigh. It would not have done for Ran to go trotting in to find Conan parked at the computer like a college researcher. And speaking of Conan... 

The Professor looked down at the package in his hand. By the size and weight, it just might be... He let a smile play around his moustache; if Conan could peel himself away from his investigation long enough to open this, he was in for one hell of a surprise. 

Fighting back a grin, Agasa headed for his office, package in hand. "Shinichi? Hey, Shinichi!" 

"Busy!" called a distracted little boy's voice. 

"Ran just came by looking for you," Agasa said, poking his head in the door. 

"Hm." Shinichi was still hard at work at the computer, not really paying much attention to anything else. 

"She left a present for you--for Shinichi, that is." Agasa stepped up to Conan's side, looking over his shoulder at the quickly scrolling data. "Don't keep working too long--I do have to take you home at a reasonable hour." 

"Hn," the boy replied. 

Agasa sighed and shook his head--the famous Detective of the East had his head buried in another mystery, and he wasn't likely to come up for air any time soon. "Well, I'll just leave this here. See you in a while, Shinichi." 

"Mm." 

The Professor left the package on the desk beside the keyboard and sauntered out, shaking his head in exasperation. 

Conan continued to work, having three searches running simultaneously while he read through the results of a fourth. For a while, all he did was crunch data...until the small part of him that was still in touch with the real world began to force knowledge of what Professor Agasa had said into his mind. Slowly, as he waited for another bit of information to load, memory of the one-sided conversation began to percolate through to him. 

Ran had been here, and she'd left a package for him. 

For a while, he was able to ignore it. But only for a _short_ while; his inherent curiosity began to buzz, and after all, doing online searches got boring after a few hours, even for him. The little parcel sat on the desk teasing him as he tried to disregard the little voice in his head that nagged at him. The package and the voice seemed to be accusing him. 

_"Ran left this for you, and you're just going to ignore it--ignore **her**--to keep playing with your little thief-mystery?"_

_Oh, come on. I'm busy,_ he groaned mentally, trying to keep his eyes from flicking to the present. But they did anyway. _This is important. For pity's sake...!_

_"You're just going to forget about it, like you forget everything else that's important to her."_

"Arrgh...alright, alright!" he hissed into the empty room. "I'll open the damn thing!" 

He dropped the mouse, left the searches running, and snatched up the present. Paper tore, and three objects tumbled into his lap. He stared at the books blankly for several seconds, touching them lightly. Perplexed, he opened the front cover of the one on top...and his eyes widened. He checked the second...and the third, his blue eyes growing larger and larger with each passing second. 

The yell that emerged from Professor Agasa's study sounded like that of a joyous little boy on Christmas morning--and for once, Shinichi didn't _care_ that he sounded like a shrieking child. With the three volumes hugged to his chest, he burst out of the study, feet pattering down the hall. 

Agasa had emerged from his workshop, startled by the sudden noise. "Goodness gracious, Shinichi! What's going on?" 

Shinichi skidded to a halt in front of the Professor, his whole face lit up as bright as a lantern. "My books--Ran--signed today--she got them at the signing--Ran took my books--!" 

"Shinichi...slow down and breathe, before you fall over!" Agasa looked rather concerned. "And _what_ did you say?" 

Shinichi took his advice, swallowing an insane need to giggle with glee. "Look!" he panted, thrusting one of the books toward the Professor. "Ran took my books to the signing--she got them autographed for me!" 

Agasa adjusted his glasses, peering at the signature inside the book's cover. "Well! So she did. How nice of her." 

"Heck yeah!" Shinichi couldn't fight off the mile-wide grin. "I gotta use the phone--hold these, will ya?" He thrust the other two books at the Professor and darted off for the kitchen telephone. 

Juggling the three books, Agasa stumbled and tried to keep from dropping them. "But--Shinichi--wait--!" 

* * * * *

With her hands busy in the middle of making dinner, Ran almost didn't make it to the phone before the answering machine got it. Swiping the handset out of the cradle, she wiped her fingers on her apron and spoke. "Mouri Detective Agency; how can I--?" 

"Ran! It's me!" 

Her eyes brightened. "_Shinichi?_" It had been so long...more than a week since his last call...! 

Shinichi's voice was full of joy, babbling like a five-year-old. "I just got your present--Ran, it's absolutely awesome! I can't believe it--thank you _so_ much for doing that for me! You know, I wanted to go but I couldn't get off in time today--I'm so glad you did that--I could just _kiss_ you, because I...um...well..." 

Ran giggled to herself; he'd just realized what he'd said. "You're welcome," she replied, unable to keep the smile out of her tone. "I hope you appreciate it, because I had to stand in line for forty-five minutes, you know." 

"I do! I do appreciate it!" he was quick to reply. "It's just great of you. Thank you, Ran." 

"Sure." A moment later, Ran blinked, realizing something. "Shinichi...if you just got that present...are you calling from the Professor's house?" 

"Um..." A pause, slightly too long. "Uh, yeah, I am. But--" 

"Great! Conan's there, isn't he? Why don't you walk him home really quick? I know you're busy but it would only take a few minutes. _Please_, Shinichi, I--" 

"Ran, I can't!" Shinichi's voice seemed to crack, just a little. "Um, I mean...I just got here a second ago and...well...the Prof was on his way out. He's already taking Conan home. I just stopped by to...pick up my mail and...stuff..." 

"I see..." Ran sighed softly. "Well, that's alright. I'm glad you like the gift." 

"I'm really sorry, Ran. But...I can't stay. I gotta go..." There was an audible gulp on the other end, and the roughness of his voice betrayed his own disappointment. 

For some reason, Ran felt tears trying to come. Really, she should have learned to deal with this by now... "Hurry up and solve your case, Shinichi," she told him, fighting off the brokenness in her throat. "Because I expect payment for those three books. I'll hold you to your word." 

"My word...? What did--oh...!" Shinichi's voice cut off, then came back rather creaky. "Uh, okay...if...if that's...what you want..." 

"You better believe it, mister. So hurry up!" 

"Ran..." There was another audible gulp from his end of the line, and a deep breath. "Ran, I..." 

Ran waited breathlessly for his reply...but as she did, she sniffed the air, then gasped. "Oh, _drat!_ That's dinner burning! I'm sorry Shinichi, I gotta go! Talk to you soon!" 

"Yeah, I'll call...um...bye..." 

"Bye!" 

She hung up the phone and sprinted into the kitchen, bemoaning the fate of her carefully-prepared meal burning on the stovetop. 

* * * * *

Shinichi stood on tiptoe to hang up the telephone on his end as well. He stood there for a few moments, leaning against the cupboard, staring at nothing. Then with a deep breath, he looked down at his own hands, his face tightening. 

"_Damn_ it!" he hissed, clenching his fists. "Damn those Syndicate bastards...damn this whole shot-to-hell situation...! How many more ways can this ruin my life?" 

Someone cleared their throat; Shinichi looked up, eyes dark. Professor Agasa stood in the kitchen door, three books in hand. "So," the Professor began, full of false cheerfulness, "how was Ran-kun?" 

"You just talked to her an hour ago," Shinichi replied shortly. "And I just told her that Conan was already on his way home. I better go." 

"Er...I suppose I should keep these for you, then..." 

Shinichi glanced at the books in Agasa's hands. "Yeah. Make sure Ran doesn't see them." He sighed. "I'll get my glasses..." 

The walk home was silent and tense; Shinichi was sullen and noncommunicative. Whatever relief he'd found that afternoon at Agasa's home had apparently evaporated. He walked head low, hands in his pockets, kicking at the occasional bit of trash or gravel on the sidewalk. Agasa did not press him, but dropped him off silently at the Mouri Detective Agency. 

Shinichi walked very slowly up the front steps, finding that "Conan Mode" was not coming easily. He took deep breaths, trying to force down the renewed frustration and resentment that had resurged in him from the afternoon. Still upset, he stopped outside the door. 

_Come on, baka, get it together,_ he ordered himself. _You're stronger than this. You can't let it get to you--can't let **them** get to you. If this beats you, they've won. Buck up. **Do** this._

Deep breath. Put on the mask. Start the show. 

Conan burst in the door to the Mouri Detective agency, calling out to his "family." "I'm home! Ran-neechan! Ojisan! I'm back!" 

"Hey, be quiet!" Kogoro Mouri grumped from his chair in front of the television. "I can't hear my program!" 

"Sorry..." Conan tossed down his backpack and kicked off his shoes, heading for the kitchen. "Ran-neechan!" 

Ran turned from the stove with a smile. "Well, hello Conan-kun! How was school today?" 

"Fine." Conan trotted up to her side, peering at the pots on the stove. "Is dinner ready?" 

"Just about--go wash up, and I'll have it on the table." Ran winked at him. "Hurry now--I've got a surprise for you afterwards!" 

Conan's eyes widened. "Really? _Cool!_" With that, the boy skittered off to do as he was told. 

Dinner was...normal. Conan chattered like a seven-year-old, Ran smiled and nodded, and Mouri gobbled his food and hurried back to his TV like usual. Afterwards, when the dishes were clean and the food put away, Ran sat Conan on the couch and brought out another small, suspiciously-shaped package. She handed it to him, sitting down beside him. 

"Wow! Ran-neechan, is this from the book signing today?" Conan asked, wide eyes and all childish curiosity and wonder. "It's for me?" 

"Just for you!" Ran replied. "I know you wanted to go, so I just had to get you something. I got Shinichi a present--were you there when he opened it?" 

Conan smiled almost wryly. "Yeah. Shinichi-niichan was really happy. He yelled like a little kid, like it was Christmas." 

Ran laughed. "I bet he did. So open yours! I wonder if you'll yell like he does." 

"Okay." Conan blushed faintly and began to tear open the package. When the paper was removed, what came from his lips was not a yell, but instead a gasp of pure surprise and awe. 

A book. A brand-new, mint-condition book, by one of his _favorite_ authors--that author's very _newest_ mystery novel, so new he hadn't read it...and it was _signed_. 

"Ran...Ran-neechan...I...I..." He turned shining eyes up to her; this was just _too much_. Not just three books, but _four_--and even though this one wasn't technically for Shinichi... 

"I thought you'd like this," Ran replied brightly. "I know you like mystery stories as much as Shinichi does...heck, he'd probably mug you for it! So I thought you should have it, since you didn't get to come with us." 

"Thank you, Ran--Ran-neechan." Conan gulped, staring up at her beautiful face. "I can't wait to read it...and...I'll let Shinichi-niichan borrow it if you want..." 

Ran smiled playfully. "Don't let him take it from you too easily...he ought to work for it." She laughed to herself, her gaze turning inward. 

Conan's breath caught, his resolve strengthened for an instant--and in that instant he did something rather crazy without even thinking about it. Funny how his brain would decide these things without telling him first. 

He sat up on his knees, leaned up to her, and kissed her lightly, briefly on the cheek. 

By the time he sat back down, his face was beet-red and she was gazing at him with some surprise. He'd been close to her before, sometimes much too close for his comfort...but he'd never been the one to initiate any sort of physical contact--and especially not like this. 

Ran's eyebrows were high. "Conan-kun--" 

"Th-thank you for the book, Ran-neechan," Conan stuttered. "And...that's from Shinichi-niichan too, just so you know...because he said..." 

Ran touched her cheek. "Conan-kun...?" 

Conan jumped up from the couch, suddenly a bundle of childish energy. He grinned at her, the faint traces of a fading blush still evident on his cheeks. "I'm gonna go read now, okay? I can't wait!" 

"Okay..." Ran managed a smile. 

The boy hurried away, book hugged tight in his arms. He got the hell out of the living room before his expression betrayed him, running through the hall to his room. 

_Damn it...damn this whole situation..._

Once there, he tossed the book down beside his pillow and dressed mechanically for bed. He didn't leave the lamp on, and he didn't read; he threw himself down on his futon and tried not to think about anything--not Kaitou Kid, not the book, not the gifts, not his undone homework, not Ran... 

_**Ran**..._

It was hardest of all to try and keep from crying. 

* * * * *

In a darkened room lit only by a desk lamp, a young man sat up late in front of a personal computer, hard at work, concentrating only on the task at hand. His mouse clicks were rapid and punctuated, his keyboarding quick and precise. He knew what he was looking for, he knew where to find it, and knew exactly how to get what he wanted. 

Kaito Kuroba barely smiled as he logged in to FabuGem's search database. As crazy as it sounded, there were actually rich idiots who made frequent use of such information as they flung their wealth about acquiring fancy jewelry and expensive adornments. All the more convenient for those like _him_, who were out to get the same thing...at "lesser cost." 

_Make that **free**...all for me!_ Kaito let himself slip into a small grin as he entered a search string and began checking the server's logs. One could _devise_ a way into the computer behind the webpages if one knew the proper procedures. It wasn't exactly common practice for customers to look into a business's leger, but he wasn't exactly a common customer. 

This way, he could not only see who was buying what, but he could also track shipping dates and destinations, even check who was looking for certain kinds of gems. He'd cornered his opposition's attempts at thievery using this very sort of information--just as how he'd discovered the whereabouts of the Owl's Eye. He was still abuzz with adrenaline from his most recent "game"--he'd just returned from the Yokohama heist that evening--and had decided to put his energy to good use... 

"Well, hello..." he muttered softly to himself, noting that three minor searches were going on along with his own. And one oddly extensive search had completed, coming up with some very interesting results--some of the very same things he himself was looking for. 

_Greetings, my little friend,_ Kaito thought at the log number that designated the computer that had requested the search. _And what are you doing sniffing around **my** targets?_

Curious, he ran through a string of commands that pulled up the log number's profile--no names, but several numbers that he recognized from his vast stores of keen memory. The other computer was connected to a university server here in Tokyo, and with a little wizarding... 

Okay, make that fifteen minutes of rather frustrating attempts at hacking before he managed to fight his way into the university's main server network. He prided himself on being able to pick any lock and break into any safe...but his father had _not_ specialized in computers. Therefore, Kaito's little cyberspace break-in was not so effortless as usual; he had to _work_ at it. 

But his efforts _did_ pay off--the university server was connected to a computer under the log-in name of "agasa_h" but with little other information; it wasn't on the server's direct network, but rather a remote connection. 

_Three guesses as to who "agasa" is,_ he thought wryly to himself. _And the first two don't count. I know only two reasons why Agasa's computer would be staking out a gem search._

"So," he whispered aloud. "Either you've decided to take up jewel thievery...or you're trying to track me through my own potential heists. Not bad, Shinichi..." 

Grinning widely now, he used his break-in at the university server to "license" himself with a temporary email account--one with no attached name or address--and began to type in his message. He would make sure Shinichi Kudo _knew_ he knew he was being tracked; no one should take the elusive Kid so lightly. 

But by the time this new game was done, it would be hard to tell who was the hunter...and who was the hunted. 

  
_To be continued..._


	3. Method to the Madness

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 3: Method to the Madness**

Saturday. 

Normally a day of blessed relief from grade school, Saturdays usually comprised Conan's "mental vacation" time, when he could hang out at Professor Agasa's and, if luck was with him and the Young Detectives weren't, be himself for a change. 

But this Saturday was just as frustrating as the Friday before it. Shinichi woke up feeling just as sour as he had the day before--and upset about the fact that he couldn't shake off his depression with a good night's sleep like usual. Maybe it was the gray clouds that threatened to rain, maybe it was the fact that even Ran could tell that "Conan" wasn't _quite_ his usual happy self; either way, he wanted out of the house. Every time he thought of Ran, he thought of those wonderful gifts--and how very screwed up his life was because of that blasted Black Organization... 

He had to get out. He would have to go to Professor Agasa's anyway; his only safe haven, the Professor's was the only place besides school that Conan was supposed to go alone. Thank God he'd persuaded Ran that he could make the walk to the Professor's home all by himself. 

Funny; Ran let him go all sorts of places when he and the other three Young Detectives were in a group--and she didn't seem to understand that they got him into more trouble when they were around than when he was on his own. Young children had _no common sense_ whatsoever. 

Conan turned in the gate to Agasa's house, heading inside without a knock--the Professor's door was always open. He was surprised to find Ai Haibara in the living room, parked on the couch with a _Bio-Science Monthly_ magazine. 

"Hey, where were you yesterday?" he wondered aloud, half to himself. Rather rude for a greeting, but he was in a dull enough mood that he didn't particularly care. 

"I heard your little tantrum and decided that self-preservation mattered more than seeing to your insecurities," she replied without missing a beat--or changing the slightly bored tone of her voice. "If you _must_ know, I was in the chemicals lab staying hard at work on our...mutual interest." 

"Oh... Is the Prof around?" 

"He's been in his study since this morning. Something about his computer." Not once had Ai even looked up from her reading. 

"Thanks." He'd barely turned back to the hall when Agasa's voice rang out. 

"Shinichi? Ai, is that Shinichi?" 

"I'm here, Professor Agasa!" Shinichi responded, trotting down the back hall toward the computer room. 

"Thank goodness! Hurry up, Shinichi! You'll want to see this!" 

His trot became a jog, and the boy was at the Professor's side in the study in a couple of seconds. "What's up? I--whoops, I left the computer on, didn't I...?" 

"That's not it." Agasa stepped away from the screen. "I got an email from...someone you know. You should read this." 

Shinichi had to clamber up into the desk chair to see the screen properly, his eyes passing quickly over the email window and what it contained. He began to gape as he read. 

To: agasa_h@tokyouniversity.edu   
From: phantom@tokyouniversity.edu   
Subject: FabuGem

Well met, Shinichi. I'm glad you're beginning to take more than a passing interest in my work. Care to join the fun? 

The elephant plucks the African plum, but his ivory is worth more than the fruit. 

See if you can trace my methods as well as you can trace my targets. I look forward to seeing you there. The challenge will be entertaining, just between the two of us. 

If you win, I'll tell you a secret--but if I win, our secret stays mine. 

Best wishes,   
KID

"What on Earth...?" Shinichi muttered, puzzled. "What is he talking about? 'Our secret?' What secret do _we_ have?" 

Agasa cleared his throat. "Well, he _does_ know who you are--both Conan and Shinichi. That alone puts you at risk, if that's the sort of secret he's talking about." 

"No..." Shinichi's eyes narrowed. "He's never been the sort of guy who uses blackmail...and he's talking about both of us. What secret do both of us share...?" 

"You both have secret identities of a sort...though we don't know his," the Professor observed. 

"_Maybe_ that's it..." The small boy sat back in the desk chair, staring at the message, eyes hard. His expression didn't belong on a child's face, as usual--it never did, in times like these. "And why is he glad I'm trying to track him?" he wondered aloud to himself. 

"That's another mystery in itself," Agasa replied. "I'll go get on the phone with Inspector Megure, and let him know Kid has contacted us." 

"Wait!" Shinichi abruptly hopped out of the chair, facing the Professor. "Wait, Professor...I know this doesn't sound like me but...just this once...I want to try and catch him on my own." 

"What?" Agasa stared at him. "There's no way...! Shinichi, listen to me. This isn't just a game, you know. Kid plays for keeps--this is a matter for the police." 

"I know," Shinichi replied, hanging his head. "And if I can't do it this time, I won't ask again." 

"Shinichi..." 

The boy risked a peek up through his bangs, sharp blue eyes pleading. "Think of it this way--Kid's not like any other thief; he _likes_ mobs of people, he _loves_ noise and commotion, and he _thrives_ on pandemonium. Without cops, without crowds, without distractions, I can corner him so he can't escape into a throng, fool me with misdirections, or change his identity. He's always gotten away from me before because of some idiot's interference! Professor...I can _do_ this!" 

"_Shinichi..._" 

"Just this once. Please. Just me and him." 

Agasa rubbed the bridge of his nose. "For goodness' sake... _Alright_...but if this doesn't work, you might be in a lot of trouble." 

"I'm willing to take that chance." 

The older man sighed. "Suit yourself." 

"Thank you, Professor!" Shinichi grinned. "I won't let you down--you'll see!" He had to climb up into the chair again to print out a copy of the email, taking it with him as he headed for the kitchen table and fetched a pad of paper. Agasa only shook his head and tried to get back to his usual work, tried to ignore the worry that had sprung up. 

Meanwhile, Shinichi set himself up at the table with his paper and the email hardcopy. Time to lay out the facts. 

_Okay, we all know Kid's big into secrets and misdirections,_ he thought. _But why is he being so blatant this time? He's practically throwing down the gauntlet--in **my** direction this time, instead of just the entire police force. _

And why is he glad to know I'm on to him? He ought to hate my guts for busting up so many of his heists. Sure, I saved his bird before, but we're even for that...aren't we? What does he want to see me for? What secret is he talking about? The only secret I keep is my identity as Shinichi Kudo...and he knows that. 

He chewed absently on the eraser of his pencil, gaze going distant. _It can't be he wants to trap me into something, or use me somehow...no, Kid works solo--and as far as I've seen, he's all about the whole "Honor of Thieves" thing. He plays crafty and he plays for keeps, but he plays **fair**. He's never **hurt** anyone, not really. Just certain people's bankrolls..._

"_Argh_...I will _never_ understand the minds of criminals," he muttered to himself. "Okay, Kudo, back to the program." 

_The idea is not to figure **him** out--just catch him and stop the robbery,_ Shinichi told himself firmly, reading over the blatant clue in the email copy. _Okay. Elephants, African plums, and ivory. Odd, he's never gone after ivory before... No, baka--**symbolism!** You know better than to take this at face value. **Think!**_

He deliberated over the clues for some thirty minutes, occasionally scratching down notes and ideas--more often than not just scratching his head. This riddle seemed a lot more simple than Kid's usual convoluted messages, but it was equally nonsensical. 

And that was the problem. It just made _no sense_. He had no references for it--it contained no relevant landmarks, poetic clues, word plays, or significant characters. It was just...a simple statement. 

"Gah," Shinichi grunted, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Either he's just toying with me, or he's _really_ come up with a doozy this time..." Frustrated, he wondered if banging his head on the tabletop again would produce some results; at the very least, he'd gotten iced tea out of the deal yesterday. 

"This is getting me nowhere..." He took a deep breath and sat up, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. _At times like these, the best thing to do is stand back and look over the whole situation again. Unfortunately, the whole situation is a sum total of eighty-nine words._

_Whole situation..._ Finished stretching, he stopped and blinked at the clean printed copy of the email. _Wait a second..._ he thought, coming to a sudden revelation. _Maybe the whole **message** is a clue!_

That idea seemed to set loose the floodgates in his mind. He leaned over the email, reading over the whole message with new eyes, seeking hidden messages behind the words that weren't the obvious clues. 

**"I'm glad you're beginning to take more than a passing interest..."**

_Now how the hell did he know I was "interested?" He was busy in Yokohama while I was watching his heist yesterday; unless he's psychic I don't think he'd know **that**. But he knew I was on Professor Agasa's computer..._

His gaze moved down, reading further--when he hit a sentence that made all the lightbulbs turn on. 

**"See if you can trace my methods as well as you can trace my targets."**

"So _that's_ it!" Grinning, Shinichi immediately scribbled down "methods!" as his first important note. _He wants me to get how he did it, too--not just what he's after! That might be part of finding the clues behind his "big hint!" But...how **did** he figure I was looking for him...and what method is he...?_

**"...trace my targets."**

**Subject: FabuGem**

_No way...he actually hacked the search server and found out I had logged requests! Clever, Kid...real clever--also happens to be breaking a few rules... His "methods," huh? So Kaitou Kid **does** use the Internet to scope his targets. Interesting..._

Shinichi jotted his last few notes, taking down every conclusion he came up with. All the evidence in the email seemed to point to FabuGem's website--or more specifically, the computer behind it. The only clues to unlock the puzzle in the key sentence would probably be found there. 

Still grinning in elation that he'd uncovered a crucial point, Shinichi let his feet carry him to Professor Agasa's study--and the waiting computer. He was already logging in and heading for the FabuGem site when he realized that to get the information he needed, he'd have to use some slightly unacceptable methods--he'd be breaking into the FabuGem server just like Kid had. 

He frowned, watching the site load, considering his options. He could back down, let this slide, do some legwork and figure it out the roundabout way--but that might take longer than he had time to spend. What if Kid's planned heist was sooner than he expected, and he missed it because he was mucking around and not using the tools he had before him? 

_Well...I guess some things just have to be done,_ he reasoned as his fingers began to fly across the keyboard. _Undercover cops sometimes have to do unpleasant things in the line of duty. If I can catch Kaitou Kid, this'll all be worth it._

* * * * *

Kaito Kuroba was boredly working on some math homework as he sat at his desk, occasionally sipping the soda perched beside his book as he studied. Kaitou Kid or not, he still had a life, and the life of a high school student did have the usual requirements. Such as being at school on time--which his night job sometimes hampered--and getting his homework done by the due date. _That_ part he had no trouble with--he had nigh-perfect memory of anything he put his mind to, and memorizing trigonometry for tests was little trouble at all. Just boring. 

As he worked, he checked his computer screen occasionally, wondering if his little plan was going to succeed or not. If the police got involved, the whole thing would go up in smoke; he had to count on Kudo's pride and inherent curiosity for this little "man to man" contest. 

Kudo was no slouch, and certainly no idiot; this was likely to be the most touch-and-go operation Kid had ever conducted--as well as the most risky, and not just for himself. He was roaming into uncharted territory now, by choosing to involve someone else in the world of the phantom thief--but then, if his reasoning held true, it shouldn't be very hard at all. Just a little nudge... 

_An eagle always learns to fly,_ he thought, recalling an old saying. _Even if he was raised among turkeys._

His eyes flicked to the computer one more time--and there it was! He dropped his pencil and immediately scooted over to the keyboard, grinning widely, having spotted a familiar log number come up in the server. Data moved, showing that the other computer was reaching into FabuGem's files. 

"Hello, Shinichi," he greeted quietly. _There's a fine line between the "good" and the "bad," my friend--and you just stuck your toe over it. Now we'll see if you can follow my trail..._ He quickly logged out--he didn't want Shinichi to catch any trace of him there, especially since he was using his own PC to do this. 

With luck, Kudo would have the heist pinned down in a matter of hours--then the plan could get moving in earnest. Still grinning, he picked up his pencil and went back to his homework. 

* * * * *

Shinichi marched down the hall toward the living room, grinning fit to split his face. He was immeasurably proud of himself, mixed with a bit of guilty glee at his little bout of computer piracy. It had taken a good two hours, but he had it--by God, he _had_ it! Kaitou Kid's riddle was an open book to him now. 

**"The elephant plucks the African plum, but his ivory is worth more than the fruit."**

Chuckling to himself at the unbearable simplicity of it, he flopped down on the couch to review his notes. Professor Agasa stuck his head in the door, having heard his laughter and become curious. 

"What is it, Shinichi? Did you figure it out?" the old man asked, stepping over to his easy chair to sit. "You've been busy for quite a while in there...did you come up with something?" 

Smiling, Shinichi held up his note paper. "Oh, did I ever!" he announced smugly. "Once I cracked the riddle, it was as easy as falling out of a chair." 

"Well? What's it mean?" 

Shinichi sat up, still smirking as he began. "Elementary, my dear Agasa. The 'African plum' gave me my first clue--most plums are purple, are they not? And what jewel is most commonly associated with purple?" 

Agasa got that in a flash--that was easy. "An amethyst!" 

"Right. I found some sale records and sifted through them for amethysts being bought and sold. There are four amethysts being purchased out of Africa this month, surprisingly...so at first I was a little confused." 

"How did you figure that out?" Agasa asked. 

Shinichi pointed out a circled scribble on one corner of his note pad. "Because the 'plum' I want really _was_ plucked by an 'elephant!' See?" 

The Professor leaned close, adjusting his glasses to read the name aloud. "'Kyozou?'" 

Shinichi nodded, grinning again. "That's the name of the man who purchased this particular amethyst--it's set in a woman's brooch, probably a gift to his wife or something. The funny thing is...Kyozou-san's name means 'great elephant.'" 

"So it does!" Agasa sat back, surprised. "What did you get out of that?" 

"Well, Kyozou's purchase is going to be delivered to his house in three days, at nine PM on Tuesday night. When the 'elephant' plucks the 'plum'--that's the time of the heist." 

"So Kaitou Kid's going to steal--!" 

"No--the amethyst brooch isn't his target." Shinichi pointed to the word "ivory" scrawled below some unreadable notes. "It's just the distraction. The delivery of a precious gem, heavily guarded, the whole household turned out to watch and help--while Kid sneaks in the back and takes the real prize." 

"Cunning, indeed," Agasa commented. "So what _is_ the target?" 

"Something much older--and much more valuable," the young detective replied, his smug smile returning. "That's the thing about ivory, Professor--elephants are born with it, and it grows in value as time passes. What kind of treasure is a man endowed with, that he doesn't just buy, and increases in worth over time?" 

Agasa's brows went up. "An heirloom?" 

"Bingo!" Shinichi crowed. "My guess is that our friend Kyozou-san has some old, valuable heirloom stored away, and it must be a pretty hefty jewel if Kid's after it. The amethyst brooch is a stone about the size of your thumbnail--pretty darn impressive, but Kid likes his gems a lot bigger." 

Agasa leaned back in his chair, applauding briefly. "Well done! Genius as always, Shinichi. I couldn't have done better if I tried." 

The teen-turned-boy grinned even wider, soaking up the praise. Solving an "impossible" mystery always put him into a good mood, and after his two-day-long funk it felt better than ever--a strange sort of high, almost; he was smart, and he knew it. And he was quite proud of it. 

"So," the Professor continued. "What are you going to do about this, now?" 

"Um..." Shinichi's grin froze, tilted, then fell. His face turned serious and slightly thoughtful. "That's what I'm not so sure about. With this information, I could have the cops on his tail in a snap, but..." 

"But you said you wanted to do this yourself," Agasa added quietly. 

"That's right. And that means things might get touchy. Depending on what sort of place Kyozou has, and the circumstances of the delivery...even the location of Kid's target...I'm not sure what I'd have to do to catch him without the police there." 

"You'd be breaking and entering, at the very least," said a new voice from the doorway. Both turned to see Ai standing there, hands on hips and looking slightly scolding. Only _slightly_, of course. 

"I _know_." Shinichi scowled and turned away from her as she came in to make herself comfortable. "That's why this is so difficult. Because if I had to chase Kid into Kyozou's house, I'd be there without a warrant or the police to make the arrest..." 

"You'd be no better than Kid, Kudo," Ai responded, her eyes set and blank as usual...but _almost_ curious. "You're willing do to that, just to catch a thief?" 

"Come now, Ai-kun..." the Professor began placatingly, only to be cut off by Shinichi. 

"A criminal is a criminal!" the boy spat. "Whether he's a thief or a murderer--they're all breaking the law." 

"So that makes it okay for you to do the same thing just to catch them." Ai frowned and leaned closer. "Tell me, Kudo--if you could stoop to breaking into a house to catch a thief...would you kill someone to stop a murderer?" 

Agasa was struck dumb; Shinichi gulped and gaped at her, his mouth working as he fought for a rational answer. "I...I...but...it's not like that!" he protested. "I'm not there to _steal_ anything, and they wouldn't even know I'd been there. I just have to do what an undercover cop does--it's not the greatest, but I'll get the job done. I'll catch Kaitou Kid!" He frowned again, glaring at her. "And who are _you_ to lecture me about ethics and morality anyway?" 

Ai rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Whatever. I know I've never been an innocent angel, but at least I don't make excuses for what I've done. And there's a major problem with _your_ excuse, Kudo." 

"What?" he demanded shortly. 

"You're _not_ an undercover cop. You're not even a licensed private investigator. It's _not_ your job." Ai frowned, getting up from her seat. "At best, you're a well-meaning young man who happens to be good at helping Inspector Megure out on tough cases. At worst, you're a _little kid_ who should be more concerned about his _own_ problems, instead of trying to solve everyone else's." 

Shinichi sat up, glaring. "You--you don't--!" 

"Do what you want, Kudo," Ai interrupted, striding out. "I don't want anything to do with it. When it hits the fan, I'm not going to get involved. It's your funeral." 

When she was gone, Shinichi folded his arms and scowled. "Sheesh. What's _her_ problem? You'd think I was going to turn into an international criminal or something." 

Agasa cleared his throat, rather uncomfortably. "I believe she's just concerned that your activities could have an adverse affect on your situation. If by some chance things went wrong, and you were exposed--Shinichi, have you stopped to think that the Black Organization might discover you somehow?" 

"Of course I have! I'm not stupid!" 

"And I have to say...I do agree with Ai-kun," the Professor confessed. "By appearances, you'd be a little boy caught burglarizing a house--and that's anything but normal. Someone might get suspicious. This isn't like any other case you've ever worked on, Shinichi...I think you should reconsider calling the police." 

"Sure. And have Kid get away again?" Shinichi turned to the older man, his gaze earnest. "Professor, you _know_ I won't let anything happen. And I told you--if I can't do it this time, I won't ever ask again. If I fail, you can call the police and tell them anything you want." 

Agasa found himself strangely ill at ease from the eager gleam in the boy's eyes--as if Shinichi was craving, _yearning_ to face Kaitou Kid one on one. "I did say I'd let you," the older man sighed. "I'll keep my word." 

Shinichi smiled once more, eyes lighting up. "Thanks, Professor! Now, we've got until Tuesday to get ready for this--I'm gonna need your help to cover for me that night." 

"Of course. The usual excuse?" 

"That'll do, I guess--simple is best. And if you don't mind, I'll need to get some equipment ready, too..." 

* * * * *

Unbeknownst to Shinichi, Kaito was preparing himself for Tuesday night's heist as well. Tucked away in his father's secret room, surrounded by the tools of his trade, the teenage thief laid out both his costume and his gear, checking each piece over, making any necessary repairs, ensuring that every item was in full working order and ready for use. 

His movements were practiced, methodical, his hands quick and precise. But his eyes were slightly distant and his face was set in a strange, uncharacteristic frown, lines of worry furrowing between his brows. He too looked forward to the heist with eager anticipation--and unusual trepidation--though his reasons were slightly different from Kudo's. This operation--it was one of the most important things he'd ever planned; he couldn't let _anything_ go awry... 

_You've got to come, Kudo,_ he thought, readjusting his glider's fittings under his suit's cape. _You've just **got** to. I hope you didn't call the cops...you better **not** have, or they'll screw everything up. If you don't involve the police, everything will go smoothly, and you'll earn the secret. You don't even have to **catch** me, just **succeed** at this. You will--I know you will, you can't resist. I **know** you can do it! _

Once it's done, I can tell you. Once you know the truth, then you'll understand. You'll understand what this whole game has been about. Then we can help each other. 

That way, we'll **both** get what we want most... 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Well, chapter 3 has been un-teaser-ized. I hope you all enjoyed it! I've never written a mystery before, and it's fun! Forgive any mistakes--and be aware I'm a constant fixer-upper, so some chapters may get revised if I discover a blooper. And I'm sorta new to Conan, so I might just trip over my own feet on this... Anyway, back to work! The grand heist is coming next, in **File 4: Crossing the Line**! _

By the way, fanart is **very** welcome...I do have a website to post it on...(which shall be updated as soon as I fix my FTP settings.) 


	4. Crossing the Line

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 4: Crossing the Line**

The days leading up to Tuesday's planned events--which Conan and Professor Agasa had taken to calling "Operation Elephant"--were fraught with tension and excitement on Conan's part, worry and consternation on the Professor's. True to her word, Ai stayed pretty much locked in her room or the chemicals lab, keeping well away from what she swore would end up being a complete fiasco. 

Shinichi managed to maintain his Conan act in front of the important people--namely Ran and her father--but his near-giddy anticipation and nervous edginess made it hard to keep up appearances. This would be his biggest night in a long time...the chance to go head to head with Kaitou Kid; one on one, man to man--er, _boy_--with no interruptions, no distractions, and no bumbling fools getting in the way. 

Ran did comment a time or two that Conan was spending an unusual amount of time over at Professor Agasa's after school--though Kogoro Mouri muttered in his usual fashion that it was "good riddance" and "...high time that old man started taking care of the brat, anyway." 

Anxious to avoid an identity blowout this close to the Big Day, Conan made the excuse that he was helping his relative with a particularly interesting project--a story that Agasa was quick to confirm one evening--and that it would be finished on Tuesday. That being the case, the Professor added, would it be alright if Conan spent Tuesday night at his place? He even promised to have the boy at school on time the next morning. Ran was reluctant, but agreed--mostly due to Conan jumping up and down and pleading beseechingly in her _other_ ear. 

Sunday seemed to fly by, filled with frantic preparations and planning--while Monday slowed to a crawl. Tuesday's day of school seemed like an eternity, with Conan growing increasingly tense as the hours passed. He had to bite back uncharacteristic irritation with his three constant compatriots; he usually had plenty of long-practiced patience when dealing with the kids--he liked them just fine, they were a great bunch--but today he was uneasy and short-tempered, and fought hard to keep from taking it out on them. He just wanted the school day to be _over_, so he could get on with the Main Event of the day. 

Once school _was_ over, it was damn hard to keep from sprinting all the way to Professor Agasa's. He was looking forward to catching Kid tonight--anticipating it the way a child yearns for Christmas morning, waiting on the Eve before. 

Along with his backpack, he'd carried a bag of "sleepover clothes" with him from home. Ran had lovingly packed his things for him, but with a guilty frown he'd pulled everything out and re-packed while she wasn't looking, filling the small duffel with what he _would_ need for that night. He changed out of his school clothes immediately upon arriving at the Professor's, putting on the rugged jeans, dark sweatshirt, and warm coat he'd brought. 

Five hours of waiting was another eternity, almost as bad as sitting through school. At least _here_ he could entertain himself rather than having to sit through a story book or a math recital session. He spent his time reading or, as he did when he had the time, studying some of his old high school books, so that his education wouldn't suffer _too_ badly--and so that his brain wouldn't atrophy from being fed first-grade level information on a daily basis. 

It would startle Ran to no end if she walked in on Conan running through physics equations, he thought to himself with a snicker, just to relieve his tension. 

When he could no longer sit still at a desk, he opted to go through his pack of equipment in lieu of just pacing around like an idiot; there were still a couple hours left to go, and he needed something to pass the time. Surprisingly, a lot of the things he'd chosen to bring hadn't come from Agasa's stores of gadgets--rather, much of it was stuff from the Kudo house. His dad had boxes of all sorts of interesting junk in the attic and the upstairs hall closet, and most of what Shinichi packed were things he remembered from his father's talks in times past. 

Yuusaku Kudo sure knew about some intriguing things--but then, all the better to be a mystery novelist. He'd actually taught Shinichi quite a few tricks in the past; like how to crack a common lock, palm a small object, pick a pocket without anyone noticing--even how to hotwire a simple security system. Variations on these skills had helped the high school detective's investigations before, but he'd never had cause to actually use them--not in their pure forms. 

He set out, catalogued, checked, and re-packed the equipment in his little pack twice; his nerves were starting to go on-edge, like they did when a case was afoot and a murderer was on the loose among them. By the time eight PM rolled around and it was time to go, he was running on a strange combination of terror, glee, and determination. He was boldly going where no seven-year-old detective had gone before. 

As he got into the Professor's car to be driven to the pre-established drop point, he wondered how far into this final frontier he'd have to venture to bring down the elusive Kid. 

* * * * *

Kaitou Kid's nerves were also jangling somewhat, although he wasn't even half as unnerved as Shinichi; he'd done this many times before--the heist itself would be no trouble. Rather, his anxiety stemmed from the fact that his choice to bring Kudo into this had introduced a wild card to his plans. He couldn't be sure what would happen once things got moving; he'd have to keep his eyes peeled and his ears open for any sign of police. He still wasn't sure exactly how Kudo would choose to handle this--as far as he had ascertained, no cops were involved...but then, Kudo's inspector-pal Megure was subtle where Nakamori was extreme. 

This whole night would be...tricky. Coping with the heist, Kyozou's security, and Kudo--plus watching out for cops--all at the same time was going to take a lot of effort. Not for the first time that day, Kaito wished he were better at juggling; to an audience, the discrepancy was unnoticeable, but when it came down to performing the tougher tricks... 

Again, he scanned the yard of the Kyozou house from his vantage point in one of the bushy trees near the front wall of the grounds. Kyozou was rich enough that he owned a good chunk of property on the outskirts of the city proper; his house was rather enormous, with several outbuildings and an extensive garden in the rear that could nearly be called a small park. 

Kaito felt that he _had_ cheated a little--the only notice he'd sent had been to Kudo; Kyozou-san had _no_ clue he was going to be visited by the famous Kid. But then, Kyozou wasn't really his target, not this time. This time, his own performance wasn't important--what mattered was the test. 

He peeked out of the branches again--still no sign of either Kudo or the armored delivery van. Kaito reached into a pocket and produced his watch, checking the time--eight forty-seven. The sun was down, the air was beginning to cool, and due to the clouds there were no stars and little moonlight. This would be a very dark night, not good for flashy tricks and his usual flamboyance. But, again, _that_ wasn't the _important_ thing this time. The test _was_. 

The watch came out again. Eight fifty-two. 

_Come on, Kudo...don't disappoint me by being late to your first show. I don't want to have to start without you._

Eight fifty-five. 

Eight fifty-eight. 

_Hurry up, Kudo!_

Movement caught his eye; in an instant he was peering intently at the far wall of the grounds, just past the large garage. The tiny form of Conan Edogawa, dressed in dark clothing, was coming over the high wall, squeezing between the tall iron spikes at the top--the lucky little guy was small enough to fit. 

_There you are..._ Kaito smiled, watching with interest. _You've crossed the line, Kudo...now let's see how far you'll go._

The small boy came down the wall on something long and black--those interesting suspenders of his, by the look of it. He was furtively glancing around, and Kaito immediately noticed that "Conan" was _not_ wearing his familiar glasses. It was _Shinichi_ who unclasped the suspender-mechanism from the wall, wound the length of material in, and stuffed them back in his pack. He then paused, half-crouched, to look around once more. 

Shinichi certainly didn't _move_ like a little kid when he didn't know he was being watched, Kaito reflected; there was too much precision, too much poise and focus in his actions--when alone, Kudo moved like a miniature adult. An interesting observation; one that Kaito had initially made long ago, part of what had made "Conan" such a puzzle... Without waiting for Kaito to finish his thoughts, the small form darted behind the garage, out of his sight. 

Kaito checked his watch--nine PM on the dot--and smiled. _Leave it to Kudo to be right on time... But now the game's afoot--better get my rear in gear! Gotta keep an eye on the squirt..._

He allowed a single grin to slip through his Poker Face--just for a moment, just this once--before he vaulted down from the tree, blurring into action. 

* * * * *

_Good Lord I actually did it--I am **inside** the wall--I actually went and **did** it, I can't believe it--!_

Panting, his heart pounding in both fright and elation, Shinichi huddled under a bush at the back of Kyozou's humongous garage, trying to collect himself after his first major move in this little chess game he'd stepped into. He'd done the impossible; he'd gathered the courage to enter Kyozou's property...and now he had to wait for Kaitou Kid. 

It was nine o'clock--he knew it had to be nine o'clock; there was the sound of a heavy vehicle pulling up the drive, an electric gate sliding back--that was the truck coming with the elephant's "African plum." He heard voices, now, and the sounds of house doors. 

No time to waste! With all this commotion, Kid was likely heading for the back of the house right now! 

Scraping up his nerve, Shinichi hitched up his pack and made his way along the back of the garage, keeping low once he cleared the building and ducking from hedge to hedge as he made for the side of the main house. There were all sorts of lights on inside; as he approached he heard the sounds of music from within, and people's shadows through the windows cast eerie shapes on the lawn. He risked a quick peek as he came close, spotting people in fancy clothes and many sporting glasses of wine--it was just a glimpse, but he understood immediately. 

_There's actually a **party** going on? Good grief, Kid has some nerve all right..._ Shinichi tucked in close to the side of the house, beneath the windows where no one could see him. Staying between the rosebushes and the brick wall of the house, he trotted toward the back and leaned around the corner, eyes alert for any threats. 

_Whew...if I'm lucky, with the party going on there won't be anyone wandering around that might spot me._ With all the lights from the house, he was rather glad he'd decided to leave his glasses behind; besides the fact that they were totally unnecessary, they would make him easier to spot if the lenses reflected--and besides, his father had told him that people trying not to be noticed should bear as few identifying marks as possible. Crouching between two bushes, he settled in to his little "stakeout" to watch for any sign of Kaitou Kid. 

And he waited. 

Ten minutes after nine, then fifteen. At nine-twenty, he began to fidget. 

_It's not like Kid to be late,_ he considered, glancing around uneasily. _I didn't get the wrong address...did I miss him?_ He jolted at that thought, barely stopping himself from leaping to his feet. _Dammit, what if I missed him and he's already taken the "ivory?" Crap...how am I gonna tell?_

Frowning, he turned to look up at the huge house, noting that only the downstairs lights were on. _No one's in the upstairs...I **could** go in and see if Kid's already sneaking around... _

No way! That'd be worse than just being here...are you **nuts**, Kudo? 

I can't let Kid escape--I told the Professor I wouldn't fail! He stood up from his stakeout spot, approaching one of the darkened windows nearest him. He had to strain to pull himself up to the sill and peer inside. It was small, and the interior wasn't well-lit, but he could make out what appeared to be a laundry room. 

_This is fine...no one will notice, and I won't hurt anything. It's no worse than when I sneaked into that guy's bathroom to find the missing corpse..._

With a soft grunt, he pulled himself up to the sill--which was thankfully level, and wide enough for him to perch his small rear on--and rifled through his pack. He could unlock this sort of window with a simple Swiss Army knife--never leave home without it!--by sliding a blade through the crack between the panes and jimmying the latch. 

_Now...does it have an alarm...? Yup, right there in the corner..._ He eased the window open until the contact plates of the alarm were barely touching--just enough to slide his small fingers and a pair of Agasa's mini-wirecutters through. _Strip the A sensor line...easy now...and the B sensor line..._ It was tough work, one-handed through a tiny space; for once he could be thankful his hands were so little. He had a small roll of wire in his pack, from which he took a good foot or so and stripped the ends. _Now's the touchy part...splice wire to line A,_ he mentally recited from his father's long-ago lessons, _position for splice B...touch wire to B at **exactly** the same moment the contact plates part--**now!**_

His heart almost stopped in that moment; his right hand pressed forward, his other arm strained--he slid back the window and _hoped_ he hadn't missed with the wire... 

He paused for a moment, crouching there on the sill, hardly daring to breathe and waiting for some kind of alarm to go off, for _something_ to happen. But nothing did; the party continued, no sirens went off, no one came bursting into the room. 

His face tweaked into a guilty smile. Heaving a sigh of relief, Shinichi shoved his tools back into his pack and hopped quietly down to the linoleum, sneaking futher into the house. 

* * * * *

_Hot damn, he **is** good!_

Kaitou Kid was stretched out on his stomach on the garden shed roof, just peeking over the crown of it, watching Shinichi at the house window. He lowered his pocket-telescope from his face, smiling, having observed the boy's technique in opening the window. _Lock and alarm in under a minute and a half--and without professional tools, even! Not bad for an amateur, Kudo...not bad at all. I'm actually impressed._

He stood up from his hiding place now that Shinichi was out of sight, tucking his telescope away in one of his many hidden pockets. The heist was in full swing, so he couldn't lose his Poker Face--not now--but there was a grin in his heart as he hopped down from the shed roof. 

_Can't let him get too far ahead of me--we've only just begun this game!_

* * * * *

_...never understand why rich people have so many goddamn **rooms** in their houses, when nobody even **uses** them...it's such a waste of space, plus it makes it **very** hard to find what I'm looking for..._

Shinichi began to wonder what he'd gotten himself into; he had no earthly clue where the "ivory" was, much less what it looked like. He was running on a wing and a prayer, and he'd actually expected to run across Kaitou Kid a _long_ time ago--where the hell was that magical menace, anway? A guy like him _never_ missed a chance for the spotlight, and there was a blasted loud _party_ going on downstairs... 

He stuck his head into the next room in the hall--he was on the third floor now--finding it to be yet another immaculate-but-never-used bedroom, this one of an interesting pink floral theme. Each room was different, as if fitted for a different guest; Shinichi wondered once again what the point was in having so many chambers in your house. It certainly might foil thieves the way it was foiling him--maybe that was it. 

_Ugh, this is **ridiculous**. How am I ever going to find Kid if I don't even know what he's looking for? Is he even here? He could just be having a **marvelous** laugh at my expense...he sure didn't send any notes to Nakamori's office, 'cause that blowhard hasn't shown up... Kid, where are you? Did you already take the goods and run, and I'm just wandering in circles here? Dammit...this is starting to feel **really** stupid...maybe I should just go home and get some sleep so I'm not completely wasted at school tomorrow... _

Feh, like **that** would make a difference in my grades... 

Having gone through three more doors and still finding nothing but common bedrooms, he began to wonder if he had the right idea. _If I were a rich guy who just bought a big amethyst, where would I keep my **really** valuable stuff? Think **smarter**, not harder...how the hell does Kid do it? He always seems to know **exactly** where his target is..._

Another nothing room. _He always seems to know **everything** about the people he's stealing from and...well, I know I didn't do my homework on this case very well...should've looked up a floor plan to this building or something. C'mon, think like Kid...there's gotta be **some** way of telling--waitasecond..._

Shinichi froze right there in the middle of the hallway, eyes widening. _I got it...holy cow, I think I just **got** it...! Kyozou has wired-in security **everywhere** around here--I've had to strip **three** of the stairway doors--_

His face lit up, and he barely refrained from shouting "_Yes!_" and thereby blowing his cover. He clapped his hands over his mouth to stifle his gleeful giggle, then whirled and padded quickly toward the stairs, heading down. 

_Stupid me...why didn't I think of it before? I know where Kyozou's study is--south wing, first floor, first hall, third door on the left--and that's the most likely place he'd keep his security system files. All I need is a wiring diagram--I'll find a door with the heaviest security, and **that's** where I'll find the most valuable goods!_

* * * * *

_Hah, he does learn quick,_ Kaito thought with a smirk, shadowing Shinichi through the mansion. The kid had the sheaf of wiring diagrams in his hand--_Gloves are on; good thinking, Kudo!_--and was heading directly toward the back stairwell. 

He had to admit, he'd been a bit disappointed at first. Shinichi had just gone from room to room as if looking for something--or some_one_--wandering through the halls with no specific destination. Then Kaito'd had to jump in and disconnect the motion sensor alarm system on the third floor before it went off--Shinichi had missed its presence entirely, and Kaito didn't want to blow this operation so soon. 

Granted, Shinichi had never done this sort of thing before, so he could be excused a little for ignorance... 

The boy had disappeared into Kyozou's home office--dangerously close to the party going on just down the hall--for twenty minutes before emerging with the fat little bunch of diagrams and a _very_ unchildlike smug grin. Obviously, Shinichi's ego was quite aware of his own accomplishments. 

_Che! More like me than I want to admit, really..._ Kaito reflected ruefully, waiting at the starwell door until the boy was on the next floor, before moving smoothly out of his hiding place and padding catlike after him. 

Shinichi passed up the third floor this time, heading straight into uncharted waters--the fourth floor. His steps slowed as he approached the doorway that led out from the back stairwell and into the fourth floor proper; by his hesitation, Kaito guessed that he must be reading some disturbing things on the security system blueprints. 

He narrowed his eyes, wishing he was close enough to read over the boy's shoulder--and barely ducked out of sight when Shinichi jerked and whirled suddenly as if alarmed, scanning the hall behind him. 

_Shoot, **again!** Man, that was close! Damn, I was **watching** too hard again..._ Kaito gritted his teeth, scolding himself for ignoring Kudo's uncanny intuition; it was quite similar to his own "cop radar," a danger-sense he prided himself on since it helped him stay one jump ahead of Nakamori and his crew. _Back off, Kaito...give him some space. You're not his babysitter, after all..._

The door to the rear portion of the fourth floor was protected by a coded lock--and not just any old combination padlock. It was a ten-key pad, simple but effective. You could go through combinations all night and not get anywhere--except maybe prison, if the pad had a "wrong combo" alarm on it. 

_Okay, kiddo...let's see how you deal with **this** one..._ He allowed himself to smile--and tried not to _stare_ at the boy. _If it were me, I'd pull the panel and just poke the little blue wire into the little green wire's jack--much more dramatic that way, but...let's see how the great Shinichi Kudo wants to handle it._

Kudo regarded the panel with a calculating eye, contemplative for several moments. Then he was setting his backpack down to fish through it again, bringing forth a small container of...something...and a tiny flashlight. 

The small container was squeezed before the keypad, resulting in several puffs of fine pale powder that soon settled out of the air. Kudo waited a few seconds, then switched on the flashlight to illuminate the keypad. Odd, but the flashlight's beam was sort of...purplish... 

Kaito's intake of breath was almost audible. _A black light? So that's--!_

The flashlight clicked off. Six of the keypad's digits were coated in glow-in-the-dark powder--powder which had stuck to the oil and residue left there by the hands of those who touched the code sequence. Shinichi smiled, then bent to shuffle through the security diagrams, producing a surprisingly ordinary sheet of notebook paper, which his eyes scanned over quickly. The boy's smile turned into a grin, and he punched in a particular combination of those six illuminated digits. 

Without fuss, the door _clicked_ open; Kudo turned the knob, picked up his pack and papers, and stepped in. The door swung shut, latched, and locked with another heavy _click_. 

_Now **that**...was **very** good,_ Kaito praised, stepping up to the keypad himself. _No property damage whatsoever, almost no chance of accidental discovery... Damn, clever little bugger--I'll have to try that trick next time. **If** I can get ahold of some of that glowy stuff._ He looked at the pad, noting the still faintly-glowing leftovers of the powder there. _Ahhh...too bad Kyozou-san had to be dumb and choose his wedding anniversary as a code sequence. Must be nice, though--keeps him reminded of that special day...women **do** tend to get upset if you forget..._

Smiling, Kaito gave Shinichi enough time to get ahead, then punched in the code again and followed. Inside, the rear portion of the fourth floor was much less ornate than the rest of the house, the floors covered in flat coarse office carpeting and the walls painted dull off-white. There were fluorescent lights on the ceiling, though only about one in every four was lit--night rotation lights. 

He was also just in time to spot Kudo going around the corner to the right-side hallway. 

_Security's tighter--I hope he stays out of the video cameras. We're here...now it's show time for **me**. He can go play by himself for a while--I've got some ivory of my **own** to take care of..._

His features settling into serious lines, Kaito darted off down the hallway to the _left_, hurrying to accomplish his heist. The operation just wouldn't be complete if he didn't get _something_ out of it. 

* * * * *

Shinichi was once again buzzing with a strange sort of guilty euphoria, pleased with how easily--and how quietly--he had gotten past the security system on the stairway door. He was also _very_ glad he'd taken the time to check Kyozou-san's desk planner, personal calendar, and drawers for important numbers; he'd found the security diagrams and scanned them over in short order, noting the places where he'd need codes--and unpacked a piece of notebook paper to scribble down a few of the numerical sequences he'd found in Kyozou's office. 

After checking the numbers on the keypad, it had been simple to deduce that it was Kyozou's wedding date. He'd checked his notes to confirm--and bingo! 

Now he was skittering down the empty hallway, darting back and forth as he squeezed past the various cameras they had posted in this area. Another time to be glad he was small, even for a seven-year-old--he could edge by underneath the cameras and even hide in doorway nooks if worst came to worst. 

Speaking of edging..._edgy_ was definitely beginning to become his regular state of mind; it had been so long with nothing happening that he felt as if he were just waiting for the alarms to start ringing. He'd been in this place for over two hours--the party was still going strong downstairs--and nothing interesting had happened. No sign of Kid, either, dammit...but he couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. 

Maybe it was just the cameras...or his own sense of guilt at sneaking around here. 

The security diagrams had showed that there were two major nexuses in the system, one to the left and one to the right on the fourth floor. He'd chosen to check the right hall first, mentally promising to double back to the left once his investigations were done. 

He squeezed beneath another camera as he approached what the security blueprint said was another large office at the end of the hall. He waited until the next camera swung away, then dashed out of hiding and quickly picked the lock on the door. He had to duck back into cover as the camera panned back; only waiting until it was _just_ pointing away, he was out again and this time disarming the alarm on the doorframe. 

It was getting easier every time; must have been all the practice. He was inside before the camera even began to move back toward him. 

The room was fairly large and seemingly open; Shinichi spotted the laser detection grid across the floor almost immediately and groaned--he hadn't brought equipment for _that_. At the far side of the room sat a safe--and not just any safe, but a _massive_ walk-in vault made all of steel. Kid wasn't likely to be stealing _that_ thing--not unless he happened to be Superman as well. 

_Just **great**...lasers. How fun,_ he moped, stepping up to the invisible grid and kneeling down to check it. He eyeballed the emitters on either side of the room, his face growing thoughful. _You know...I could just about fit **under** this thing. Damn, like this I'm small enough._

He removed his backpack and lowered himself to the floor, still keeping an eye on the emitters. _Hah! If I go through flat I can make it! Have to drag my pack though, too..._

Ever so carefully, Shinichi began to inch his way along the flat carpet, taking care that no elbows, head, or feet strayed high enough to trip the grid. The spread of lasers was only about ten feet wide--enough that ordinary folks couldn't jump over it--but when you're scooting on your belly, ten feet is a _long_ distance. Add that to the paranoia that the grid might get triggered--it was less than two or three inches above him--and you've got a lengthy and miserable little trip along the carpet. 

He stopped on the other side to take a breather, staring back along the grid and wondering to himself, _Did I really just **do** that?_

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Shinichi stood and regarded the huge vault with a growing smile. He'd done it--he'd made it, this _had_ to be the place. But...had Kid reached the vault first? Hell, it was past eleven already--and Kaitou Kid was _never_ late. 

He stared at the steel door, at the large dial that held the vault's combination lock. _I should at least **check**,_ he thought quickly. _I have to see if Kid's already been here...if he's already won..._

A stethoscope was quickly produced from his pack; he had to drag forth one of the office chairs from against the wall so that he could reach the dial. In a few seconds, he was gingerly working his way through the first part of the combination, listening intently through the stethoscope for the sound of the tumblers falling into place...he got the first two numbers by this method, then grinned and twisted the dial, remembering the last number from his little page of notes. 

Success! With a muffled _clunk_, the safe was unlocked. He nearly laughed aloud. _This guy is **nuts**. He's just **asking** to be robbed--putting his wife's birthday on his vault combination like this!_

He _still_ had to stand on the chair to turn back the safe's latch, straining every muscle trying to get the wheel to rotate. _Dammit, sometimes it's good to be small, and sometimes...it's...just...**not**...!_ Finally, the vault gave in and opened. 

Inside, the walk-in safe was well-lit--and contained only one thing: A pedestal covered in a glass case, and protected by the glass was a glittering object resting on a maroon velvet pillow. 

Shinichi's grin took on crazy proportions. _He hasn't been here--he hasn't gotten it yet! **Yes!** This way I know he's still coming... _

So what are you gonna do when he **gets** here, genius? 

That _was_ the question of the hour, wasn't it? He couldn't very well overcome Kaitou Kid in a physical contest--_**Hell** no, not like this!_--and when it came to "tricks-up-the-sleeves" Kid was second to none. Shinichi would have to think ahead and outsmart him _before_ it came down to a face-off. 

_I wonder what he'd do if he came in here and found his beloved "ivory" missing!_ the boy wondered with a cocky smile. _He'd have fits, that's what--one thing I know for **sure**, Kid gets **very** upset when someone spoils his heists!_

Eyes open for alarms, Shinichi approached the pedestal--the resting place of Kid's target, the long-awaited "ivory." It was gorgeous, magnificent; some kind of hair adornment or something, set with a large pale stone--a diamond or a very light sapphire, he wasn't sure. Circa mid-eighteen-hundreds, maybe? He was no expert, but the design of the gold setting looked old-fashioned and Western. Perhaps something brought over from Japan's first contact with the West...and very, _very_ valuable. 

_I know what I'll do,_ Shinichi thought, blue eyes nearly mesmerized by the gem's vibrant sparkle. _I'll just hide this thing, and when Kid comes in here he'll be **really** surprised--and I'll nail the sucker right then and there! I'll even have him cornered in a safe!_ He was barely able to contain his giggle as he trotted back out to bring in the chair so he could work on opening the glass case. 

According to the security wiring in the diagram, the case was supposedly tamper-proof--it would probably trigger the alarm if the little key were not left in the lock as the case was opened. That meant no lock-picking--yet. 

No problem...he'd just trot on back outside to the vent near the safe door--a screwdriver made quick work of the vent guard, and just behind the ductwork was the wiring to the alarm system. Thank goodness for the security blueprint! This was so easy it was almost..._fun_. 

_Erk...now where did **that** come from? Dammit, concentrate! This is **not** fun, this is **work!**_

Thank goodness for his dad's little talks about security systems, too...a snip here, a rewire there, and _voila!_ The lock was now pickable. 

In a second he was back in the safe, up on the chair, and hard at work with his smallest lock-picking tool. He remembered his father using this one to open his post box one time when he'd forgotten his keys...his father's hands had been deft and quick, and the lock was open in a second or so... 

And so was _this_ lock; with a faint _snap_, the glass case was unlocked. Carefully--and hardly breathing once more--Shinichi lifted the case back on its hinges, his hands shaking faintly. There it was...the "ivory" prize that Kid sought--the vaunted target of the phantom thief! 

His small gloved hands reached out for the glittering prize, hesitating once--_Come on, don't chicken out **now**; you've got to make sure Kid doesn't get ahold of this_--and with a gulp, he lifted the surprisingly heavy piece of jewelry from its velvet resting place. 

Shinichi held the beautiful thing cupped in his palms for a few moments, staring at it; there was an unfamiliar sort of giddy elation thrumming through his veins, making his body tremble and his hands shake. It wasn't like the euphoria that filled him when he'd solved a case or brought down a murderer...no, this was different--this was a magnified, intensified version of the feeling he'd gotten when he was a young child, having just _gotten away with something_. In and out of the cookie jar and _no one_ ever knew. 

_I did it. I actually did it--I could walk out of here with this and be filthy **rich**...!_

He jerked visibly at that thought, face scrunching up in a shadow of guilt and disgust. _Hello, Brain to Shinichi Kudo... What's gotten into you? You're here to stop Kaitou Kid, not steal anything! Dammit, Kudo, get back on track..._

Still cradling the jewelry in his hands, he hopped down from his chair and was reaching into his pack for a tissue to wrap it in--when the lights in the safe suddenly went out. _What the--?_

A second later, a strident alarm began to sound. The vault lights went back on--colored red as blood. _Ooohhhhhh **shit**..._

Panic Mode came on before he could stop it--_Backup alarm, a goddamn backup alarm!_--and he was scooping up his pack and racing out of the vault like a scared rabbit. He was halfway across the room when a second alarm went off--this one of a different pitch. He froze, looked down--_**Double** shit! I forgot the lasers!_

_--panicpanicpanic--_

_Run, just **run!**_ his instincts demanded--and he tore out of the office room and pelted down the hall outside without a thought to the cameras. Security in the house was already in a fluster from the first alarm--and the men posted at the video terminals would soon spot the small form dashing through the upper floor, looking for an escape route. 

* * * * *

Kaitou Kid was silently making his way through the halls, heading back in Kudo's direction, having finished his own successful little venture. He too froze when the house seemed to erupt into alarms all around him--_What? I didn't **do** anything just now!_--and stared in puzzlement. The whole floor was astir with flashing lights and sirens, and he could hear mens' voices from somewhere ahead. 

_Dammit Kudo, I can't take my eyes off you for a **second**, can I?_ He pulled back into the shadows and ducked into a side room as a trio of security guards ran past; frowning, he peeked out to watch them go. _Good thing Kyozou hires security with uniforms that are easy to copy,_ he thought, switching his wardrobe to match that of the men. No time to fix up his face--a pair of Men-In-Black-looking sunglasses and a security cap would just have to do. 

He stepped back out into the hall, his stride confident and purposeful; the trick with this was to _look_ like you _belonged_ there. With the security guards already passed, this part of the hall was quiet except for the alarms; if he didn't find Kudo soon, the police _were_ going to arrive and screw everything up... 

Speak of the devil... 

Shinichi himself actually barreled around the corner, running flat-out scared in his efforts to avoid the guards that were now tromping around searching for him. Kaito was a little suprised to see the look of utter _terror_ on the boy's face--when Shinichi saw Kaito in his security guard disguise and screeched to a halt. 

He was only frozen for less than an instant--just enough time to emit a frightened little _squeak_--before he whirled and sprinted away, turning down a different hall this time. 

Kaito himself was a bit shocked; Shinichi was so terrified he hadn't even _noticed_ that the "security guard" had not moved. _Damn, he's gone into panic--no telling what'll happen if he runs into a **real** guard. I won't let you get arrested, Kudo, but so help me...this is going to be **hell** on my reputation..._

* * * * *

_--oh no oh no oh no I'm **so** dead I'm gonna go to jail **forever** and Ran'll **never** forgive me oh no oh no oh no--_

Shinichi Kudo was panicking rather splendidly, acting more like the frightened child he resembled than the level-headed teen he _should_ have been. He was more scared than he'd been in a long time, running like a rabbit through the halls, turning frantically any time he heard or saw any sign of security guards, getting himself completely lost in the process. He couldn't even remember the way back to the stairwell--fat lot of good _that_ would do anyway; it was the only way in or out of this part of the house and they would have it sealed off and guarded by now. 

_--panicpanicpanicpanic--_

And _still_ no sign of Kid...! 

He was angry and terrified and confused, and at this point he didn't give a damn where Kid was--he just wanted to get _out!_ The guards were closing in; the north wing halls were completely shut off to him now--he only had about two hallways left. 

_...oh **damn** here they come--I can't go back **that** way--what do I do what do I do?--find a door and get inside--door door door **door!**_

He hit the nearest door running, so hard that it slammed back against the wall as he burst into the room searching for a hiding place. There was really nowhere to go--the room was another bare office, this time with valuable paintings hung on the walls. There was a window; he sprinted over to it and peered out. 

_Oh no, fourth floor--I can't get down from here, the suspenders don't reach...oh God I'm **so** dead...! _

--panicpanicpanicpanicpanic-- 

There were voices--mens' voices coming down the hall. _They're gonna find me--they're just gonna walk in here and **find** me...oh what am I supposed to **do**...?_

The voices in the hallway erupted into...shouting? The guards seemed suddenly alarmed, yelling something about finding the thief and "Catch him! Somebody grab the bastard!" 

The sound of laughter resounded over all, and there were crashes and flashes of light from outside the door. Shinichi was already standing in the middle of the room again, eyes wide, wondering what _else_ was going to go wrong and...what the hell was going on out there...? 

Something white flashed through the doorway, coming right at him--Shinichi barely had time to blink before he was scooped up roughly in strong arms and carried back toward the window. Slack with shock, he couldn't move as the glass crashed and he was suddenly _falling_ through cold dark air; in a single moment, the downward motion ceased, replaced by the heavy _poof-whoosh!_ of cloth against air, almost like a parachute--and instead of falling they were _flying_... 

"Nice job back there, by the way," said a soft, rough, youngish male voice over the wind. Its tone was sardonic and slightly breathless. "Minus a few points for tripping the pressure sensors under the pedestal cushion in the vault..." 

Shinichi blinked. The dark curtain of panic parted just enough that he could begin to process the sensations, the actions, the voice...he was being held firmly by someone's arm around his middle, against that someone's body, looking down at the ground flashing by... _Oh no...oh **hell** no...!_

"_Kaitou Kid!_" he nearly shrieked, twisting to glimpse his rescuer. 

"The one and only!" The monocled face peered down at him, grinning slightly. "Thanks for securing the target for me, Kudo." 

_Oh God, tell me I **didn't**..._ Shinichi looked down at his fisted hands, one of them clenched tightly around-- _...I **held on to the stupid jewel when I ran...!**_

Kaito was taken by surprise when Shinichi picked _that_ moment to start kicking and struggling, yelling bloody murder--he'd been so shock-limp before that Kaito hadn't been expecting a fight. The small form arched and flexed, surprisingly strong; a hard head slammed back into his chest, jolting him, while a sharp little elbow hit him in the ribs as the boy flailed. Shinichi wriggled half out of his grip while Kaito struggled to keep from dropping him--it was a _long_ way down and he'd rather Kudo didn't become a lawn ornament just yet. His madly squirming cargo twisted, one free arm flashing out... 

Something faintly glittering flew through the air down into the yard, reflecting in the flashlights of a few security guards as it fell into Kyozou's garden. 

"_Hey--!_ Now what the hell did you do _that_ for?" Kaito demanded, angry that half his heist had just been tossed back like an unwanted fish. He couldn't go back and _get_ it, either; the wind was wrong, and he would chance a tangle with the guards--something he couldn't risk with Kudo along for the ride. "Dammit..." 

Shinichi had stopped struggling now, going silent and stiff, refusing to respond; the small body was rigid in his arms, faintly trembling. Frowning, Kaito spared a glance down at the boy, his eyes softening just a little when he caught the sullen, angry, utterly _defiant_ look that Shinichi directed at him. 

_Poor kid...this is hard enough on him, let it go..._ Kaito sighed fantly, relenting; this whole fiasco was his own fault anyway, for choosing to involve another. Kudo didn't deserve any anger from him. The jewels weren't the point of tonight's heist anyway... 

The ride away from the Kyozou mansion was completely silent. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Bad? Good? Somewhere in the middle? Ack, I hope this is going well...I can't really tell, myself. I'm not even sure if that's the **right** way to break into a house...blame it on too much Mission Impossible and spy shows. I'm trying my best, please be patient with me! _


	5. One Truth

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 5: One Truth**

Kaito Kuroba had chosen Kyozou's mansion as the scene of this heist for several reasons. One, the prize was big and valuable. Two, its security system was extensive and complicated but not _too_ difficult to crack. Three, the structure of the house and the layout of the grounds was such that a thief could not be cornered very easily. Four, there weren't that many hired guards on duty at any given hour, and their response time was relatively slow. 

Finally--and most importantly at this point--its location was within a resonable distance of Shinichi Kudo's residence. 

By now, Kaito's small passenger no doubt recognized the buildings they were passing over. Kudo was still as uncommunicative as ever, his small body still taut with silent fury. Wondering how he was going to handle what _had_ to come next, Kaito began to scan the nearby rooftops for a good place to set down. 

He'd done his calculations well; his hang-glider could safely accomodate Shinichi's rather insubstantial mass without significant effects on its performance. But although the slight extra weight made the glider move a bit faster through the air, it also ensured that gravity's force would assert itself that much sooner. 

Kaito picked out a landing spot on an oncoming roof--a short building of only a few stories, with a flat, open top. There were no hiding places, only one roof access door, and a simple fire escape ladder; no loose objects or scattered stuff lying around--nothing for little "Conan" to kick at him. Simple, exposed, and relatively safe to both of them--the closest to neutral ground they were going to get tonight. 

He angled in to land, loosening his grip on his passenger slightly; he didn't want Shinichi to feel trapped or confined once they set down. It was already bad enough he'd been grabbed up and hauled off without so much as a by-your-leave--already bad enough he'd had to submit to his adversary's grasp this long. Being carried around like this had to be damn undignified, Kaito mused, especially for an independent young man who wasn't really a little kid. 

Sensing his bearer's intent, Shinichi was struggling to get loose even before they came to rest. Teeth gritted, he fought to wrench himself out of Kid's grip, thrashing nearly as hard as he had upon their escape from Kyozou's mansion. 

As soon as his shoes touched the roof, Kaito released his hold on the boy entirely. Shinichi kicked away from him, landing in a scuffling mixture of running and scooting as he strove to put distance between himself and his enemy. He was a good fifteen feet away before he felt safe enough to stop, panting from his sudden exhertion, glaring daggers at the glacially calm youth who stood, unaffected, on the other side of the roof. 

They stood there for a few moments, both on-edge--though you'd never know it looking at Kid's face--both wondering what the other was going to do next. There was a long silence as they took measure of one another, Kaito preparing himself to speak, Shinichi trying to settle his heartbeat and calm his anger. 

Shinichi wanted to speak--wanted to _yell_, even--to ask what the hell was up with Kid this time, what had he planned, why was this heist so weird, why had he rescued him...? But he couldn't get his voice to work; his mouth would open and nothing would come out. He was too confused--the whole thing at the mansion had been _weird_, nothing like Kid's other heists--and too upset from his brush with disaster. 

Kid's face didn't shift from its small, sardonic smile when he spoke. "So...I wonder who won this round, huh? Was it you or me? I got the goods, but then you threw that diamond back to them, so I lost that..." The smile twitched up just a bit. "And you _succeeded_. You did it--you got all the way to the prize. I knew you could, even if you stumbled at the end." 

Kid's voice somehow knocked loose the logjam in the back of Shinichi's throat--mostly because his brain went wild at Kid's words, a dozen jumbled pieces suddenly falling into alignment. "You...you...set all that up?" he croaked, eyes going wide with disbelief. "The whole time...that was all...arranged...?" 

"Heh...I wouldn't say that," Kid replied with a short chuckle. "I just chose a stage and made sure you'd show up at the right time. The rest was entirely up to you." 

"You _planned_ all of that?" Shinichi demanded, his voice coming full force now. "You _intended_ for me to get into that mess? You bastard, what's your game this time?" 

"No game, Kudo. A test." 

"_What?_" the boy all but snarled. "_That's_ what this is about? Just to see what I would do? Just to make me one of your tools--or your scapegoat?" His little-boy voice began to crack shrill with emotion. "Your stupid '_test_' made me out to be a _thief!_ You--!" 

"Hey!" Kid cut in, his voice suddenly abrupt--more sharp than Shinichi had ever heard it. "I didn't do any of that. _You're_ the one who decided to go into Kyozou's property. _You_ went all the way into the house. _You_ opened the vault and took the diamond. All _I_ did was watch you--I wasn't even anywhere near you when you cracked the safe." His expression shifted, becoming...rather thoughtful. "You did it all on your own, Shinichi Kudo. I figured you'd go all the way--I _knew_ you had it in you." 

"But...but I...no...!" Shinichi's face had slackened into something akin to horror, jaw dropping as Kid's words struck home. "I didn't mean for...!" He stared up at the other youth, eyes almost pleading. "But...how...how did you know...that I'd...?" 

"...that you'd sneak in and go right for the prize?" A half-grin replaced Kid's usual sardonic little smile. "An eagle always learns to fly, Kudo--it's in his nature. I think you've earned your secret, don't you?" 

"The secret...from the message...? What...?" Shinichi actually took a step toward the phantom thief, his need to know overriding his previous wariness. 

"'There is only one truth,'" Kid replied, his voice turning firm and serious. "I'd tell you right now, but you'd never believe me. You want to know the truth, Kudo?" Blue eyes pierced blue eyes, grimly honest. "Go ask your father why you're a thief." 

Shinichi gasped. "My _father--?_" 

Kaitou Kid was already stepping up onto the rim of the roof. "When you understand, maybe we can trust each other enough to help each other out. Whadd'ya say, huh?" His grin returning, the young thief winked at the boy, tweaking the brim of his hat jauntily. "I'll see you around, Shinichi!" 

And he stepped off the roof. 

Shinichi stared at the place he'd been for a half-beat before his muscles finally unlocked. He charged forward, gasping. "_Kid--**wait!**_" he nearly screamed. "Come back here!" 

The hang-glider was swooping away; Shinichi sprinted along the roof-edge until he came to the end of it, jumping up to the rim and teetering dangerously--but the glider was already passing out of his sight amongst the buildings. 

"Dammit...!" he snarled, sounding _nothing_ like a little boy. "_Damn it all!_" 

Panting, he finally saw fit to climb down from the edge, stung by frustration and defeat. Kid's words burned him--it was _true_, all of it; he'd gone into that house on his own, walked through the security systems, even taken that thrice-cursed hair-jewel all of his own accord! The truth hurt, searing him--and coming from the mouth of a _thief--!_

He leaned against the cold wall, filled with shame. He'd been _thrilled_ to defeat Kyozou's security; his panic at the alarm had stemmed from his own belated sense of guilt for his own wrongdoings. A true detective was supposed to be above reproach! Where had his brain been during all of that? On a temporary leave of absence, while the stupid teenager took the helm and nearly got him busted for robbery... 

_Crap. I'm completely irrational right now...too much adrenaline, too much stress... I need to get home._

Tense and weary, he pushed off the wall and headed toward the iron railing of the fire escape, beginning the long climb down to the street. His exhaustion made him doubly irritable; he murmured curses upon each step of the ladder, hating the way his short legs made his descent that much more difficult. 

He knew where he was, at least; thankfully, Kid hadn't dropped him off in an area that he didn't recognize. A few blocks from here was the street that would lead him to his own house, and Professor Agasa's next door. 

_Aw, great...I left the Professor waiting for me back there..._ With a groan, he hoisted his backpack to a more comfortable position and started off down the sidewalk at a drained trot. If he was lucky, no one would spot him--it was pretty damn late for a seven-year-old to be wandering the city streets, and cops would get suspicious. 

God, if he even _glimpsed_ a police car tonight, he'd freak out--he just knew it. They'd seen him in that house--they had cameras, those men _had_ to have spotted him somewhere along the line, and he'd almost run into that security guard. If the police were looking for a miniature thief, they might question the presence of a little boy running along the sidewalk at midnight. 

And he hadn't brought his skateboard. There had been good reasons not to--but he sure wished he had it now. He could be home in a minute or two. 

_Home_. Damn, he'd hardly slept in his _own_ home since the night before _That Day_ at Tropical Land... He found himself suddenly missing his old bed, his old house, his old _life_. He usually missed it to one degree or another at random times--whenever he stopped to think of what a drag it was to be stuck in this damned small body--but in that moment, with his state of exhaustion and his emotions all twisted up, he felt the loss more acutely than he had since the first night he'd become a child again. 

That first night, he'd silently cried himself to sleep, curled into a frightened, miserable, lonely little lump under the blankets... 

Tears pricked in the back of his eyes--he wouldn't let them fall, but they made their presence known. He was homesick for his old way of life, so familiar and uneventful and _simple_...and he was getting tired already--damn little-kid legs weren't made to do so much all in one night. 

And he _had_ done so much..._too much_...sneaking into another man's house, sabotaging a security system, breaking into a vault and actually making off with a valuable heirloom. He couldn't understand what had posessed him to go that far; the strange guilty glee, the thrill of the game--he'd been looking forward to catching Kid, but once he'd gotten _in_, his focus had shifted from the chase to...something he knew was _wrong_. 

He could've gotten into so much trouble--! Kid and his games, his secrets, turning his life upside down...! 

And now it was starting to rain. Perfect. 

Homesick--and in a way, heart-sick--Shinichi kept putting one foot in front of the other even as he increased his pace to a run, not wanting to be completely drenched. Memories of his first night flashed through his head--the terror, the confusion, the anguish, all wound up into a cold ball in his stomach, counterbalanced by the hot knot of pain on his head that throbbed with every heartbeat, every step; the rain had seemed the only thing left that was _real_ that night. The whole thing with the drug was a dream, it had to be--too crazy, to utterly awful to be true...! 

_God, please, I want my life back!_ he prayed silently, heaving breaths hissing through gritted teeth as he ran through the rain--cold rain against his face, once again seeming like the only genuine thing left in existence. _Would it be too much to ask if this was all just a bad dream? Please, just let me wake up tomorrow in my own bed, back to normal. God, let me be **me** again...I don't care if I **never** become a famous detective--Kid and his secrets can go rot--I just want my life back, I want to be with Ran...I just want to go home...**please**...!_

Just like that first night, he stumbled and fell, going down hard on the wet concrete with a short yelp of pain. Gasping, he picked himself up, cradling his stinging palms, wincing at the ache from his bruised knees, fighting off a renewed urge to just lay down and bawl. This night was hell...cold, wet, rainy, miserable, lonely _hell_... 

When he looked up, he found himself sitting just a few yards down from Professor Agasa's gate. Salvation from hell--a warm dry place and he could just go curl up somewhere and _forget_... 

Unlatching the gate took more effort than he really wanted to expend, but somehow he did it. He stumbled inside, not really seeing what was in front of him, kicking off his shoes and dropping his wet pack unthinkingly in the entryway. His coat joined it soon after that, and he tottered into the darkened hall with little real direction. 

The light came on, stinging his eyes and bringing him back to the present. Ai was standing there, dressed in a robe and looking slightly disheveled, her eyes narrowed disapprovingly--until she took in his soaked and exhausted condition. 

"What the hell happened to you?" she demanded, looking unusually startled. 

"Nothing," Shinichi croaked. "Call Professor...he's still out there..." 

"This doesn't seem like nothing," Ai retorted. "You look like you got tossed off a bridge, Kudo. I _knew_ you were going to get into trouble--" 

"You shut up!" he snapped spitefully, coming awake with uncharacteristic ire. "You don't know _anything!_ Just leave me alone!" 

He shoved past her without another word. Taken aback, Ai stepped aside quickly, her startled expression actually tilting into surprise. She'd _never_ seen such viciousness from him, and it made her hesitant to ask what had put him into that state. 

Shinichi went for the living room and the familiar couch, not really giving a damn if Ai never spoke to him again. She was the person who'd invented the drug that did this to him--even if he'd never cared to resent her for that before, he was sure doing it tonight. He felt like he hated _everything_ tonight; his situation, his enemies, his friends, even himself. _Especially_ himself... 

He stripped out of his wet clothes, everything but his shirt and jeans, dumping discarded items on the floor and kicking them aside. Throwing himself down on the couch, he curled up with his back to the world and burrowed into his own thoughts. Thoughts of the heist tonight, his intentions gone awry, his own thievery and deceptions, Kid's promised secrets... They chased themselves around in circles, hurting him with his own memories, looping between shame and bitterness. 

At least he didn't _cry_ himself to sleep this time. Although he came damn close... 

Ai avoided the living room entirely, reasoning that it was best to let sleeping tigers lie. _Something_ had happened to Kudo tonight, and though she didn't know what it was, she _did_ know that it had to have been something truly disturbing to upset the normally even-tempered Shinichi. And if it was _that_ bad...did she even _want_ to know? 

She tried not to think of the anger, torment, and frustration that had been written plainly across a face far too young to hold such painful emotions. Tiptoeing to the kitchen, she dialed Agasa's remote phone to let him know that their detective had returned to home base. 

* * * * *

He woke sour and groggy as if from a muzzy nightmare, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling in a place full of unfamiliar sounds. Blinking gummy eyes and licking parched lips, he breathed in the smells of coffee, solder, and chemicals as he tried to bring himself to full consciousness, struggling to recognize his surroundings. 

Growing awareness brought back a rush of hazy memories from the night before, a muddled whirl of jumbled and painful emotions; he hadn't awakened at the Mouri house so his fuzzy brain confusedly reached for an explanation. For a moment his tangled mind desperately grasped at the faint thin hope that it had all been a bad dream--_everything_, from the night at Tropical Land to the hellish evening at Kyozou's. Gasping, he quickly pulled his right hand up to look at it, wishing beyond hope... 

No...wishes _never_ came true--not _his_. Hopes dashed, he gazed at the weak, skinny little hand of a seven-year-old boy, scraped from his fall on the sidewalk. 

Groaning, he let his hand fall limply back to the couch--no, the blanket; when had somebody put a blanket over him...? 

"Oh, you're awake," said a quiet female voice--Ai. "I'll go get the Professor." 

The best response he managed was another faint moan as he laboriously pulled himself into a sitting position, squinting around. _The Professor's house...that's right, I wandered in here after..._

After that thrice-cursed heist that Kid had arranged--after his rescue, and that weird, puzzling, _disturbing_ conversation with the thief. 

The heavy steps coming into the living room heralded the arrival of Professor Agasa. "Well, good morning, Shinichi!" the older man greeted him in a voice that was too loud for his already upset mind. "Did you sleep well? Ai-kun said you were in a _state_ when you came back last night--did you run into Kid after all? I waited _hours_ for you, and then there were police cars showing up in droves--thank goodness Ai-kun called when she did! What happened back there, Shinichi?" 

Shinichi gritted his teeth, rubbing his eyes and trying to get his brain back into some semblance of order so he could _think_. "Ugh...nothing happened," he replied hoarsely as the Professor sat in his armchair. "I...well...the mansion got all stirred up..." He hesitated, swallowing. "I got out after Kid but I lost him--he didn't make off with his target, though...and then I came here..." 

He blinked at himself then, realizing he'd just flat-out _lied_ to Agasa, his only ally in this. When had it become imperative to hide this from his old neighbor? 

Since he'd become so ashamed of himself for what he'd almost done last night... 

_"Go ask your father why you're a thief."_

His intake of breath hissed through his teeth; he couldn't meet the Professor's eyes any more. _Damn that thief, this is all **his** fault... _

...but didn't you feel so proud of yourself when you touched that beautiful diamond? 

**Shut up!**

He rubbed his eyes again, hoping to hide whatever expression had arisen from his dark thoughts. Swallowing another lump of guilt in his throat, he tried to change the subject. "Professor...what time is it? I should get ready for school..." 

"Ah...don't worry about that, Shinichi," Agasa replied. "I called the school this morning and told them you were ill. It's about ten-thirty now...you were so very tired last night and it seemed like you'd been through a lot..." The older man leaned forward, concerned. "Shinichi, did something else happen last night? You can tell me--you know I won't--" 

"No! Nothing else--it just rained and I got really tired from running all the way home!" He hoped his voice didn't sound as strained and shrill as he thought it did. _Truth...what happened to the truth? _

"You want to know the truth, Kudo?" 

"Professor, I...I need to go...somewhere..." 

The older man's bushy eyebrows went up. "Where? You can't go far--I had to call Ran-kun this morning too, and she's coming over to see you as soon as she's out of school." 

He frowned, wincing. _Ran..._ "Not far, just next door. I just...need to go _home_ for a little while. I won't be too long..." 

The Professor blinked. "I suppose that's alright." 

The uncomfortable tone in the man's voice made Shinichi look up again, at last realizing he was being selfish and unfriendly. "I'm sorry, I...just need some time to myself..." 

"I see. You don't want breakfast, then? Do you need anything to eat?" 

"No, I just need to go." Shinichi shoved to his feet, stumbling slightly until his legs warmed up. Agasa's eyes followed him worriedly until he was out of the living room. 

He saw Ai in the hall, leaning out of the kitchen door. Stopping to glance at her, he felt a flash of guilt for his treatment of her last night. "Oh...I'm sorry about last night, I was just..." 

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Kudo," she retorted. "I told you it was _your_ problem." 

Stung, he closed his mouth as she vanished back into the kitchen. His feet bore him to the front door on a wave of self-loathing--God, he was being a total bastard to everyone around him, even lying to the man who'd done nothing but help him all this time! 

With his shoes laced up and his slightly-damp jacket on, he hurried out the door before he offended anyone else. Out in the daylight, breathing the sweet air, he began to feel a fraction of his load lift--the brightness of the sun and the coolness of the breeze felt _good_. It was midday, the sun was high--no thieves operated at times like this; there were only normal people going about their normal lives on this normal day. 

When he reached the front door of his own house, the long-abandoned Kudo residence, he heaved a sigh of relief. He trotted inside with easy familiarity, pushing aside his mind's tendency to dwell on how _big_ everything seemed--he'd rarely spent any time at his house since _That Day_. 

Leaving his coat and shoes at the door, he switched on some lights just to chase shadows out of any dark corners and make the house feel _inhabited_. Speaking of which, the air was a trifle musty; glad to have something to occupy his mind, he went about choosing a few windows to open. The air was damp and fresh from last night's rain shower, and it made the house seem alive again. 

The answering machine was less swamped with calls than it had been at times previous; he let it play, half-listening to weeks-old messages--some from Ran, some from his old high school buddies, some that were just inane calls from salespeople or acquaintances. Even though he was several feet shorter than he should have been, it felt reassuringly good to be meandering around his own house, just doing some ordinary things. 

He dusted off the coffee table and straightened the couch pillows. He pulled a chair up and checked the kitchen sink, washing a couple of cups that had been left unattended by someone--his parents most likely, from their last visit. It was quite a hike to put the cups away in the high cupboard, but he did it all the same, just because, refusing to think about how short his legs were. He stopped in at the bathroom to make sure it was tidy, then trotted down the hall to the master bedroom and poked his head in; seeing nothing out of order he shut the door firmly. Back in the living room, he _almost_ got out the vaccuum, just _because_, but figured he might not be able to push it. So he fetched the broom instead, and swept the kitchen floor. 

_Just because_. 

It was _normal_. It was restoring his sanity, little by little. 

This was _his house_. His haven, his domain, his island in the ocean of life--a rather stormy ocean at this point. This was the one place left where the harsh realities of the outside world had not yet intruded. 

He wandered upstairs, his feet taking him into his room. He heaved a nostalgic sigh as he ran his fingers over the keyboard of his silent computer, across the homework papers left forgotten on his desk. That literature assignment from second period...he'd never finished it; he'd gone to Tropical Land with Ran, promising to do it when he got home... Shuddering, he forcefully pulled his thoughts away from _That Day_ and moved to his bed, spreading up a corner of the somewhat rumpled covers. His fingers touched the books on the shelf at the head of his bed almost lovingly; they were _his_ books, not his father's--his own personal Sherlock Holmes collection, bought with earnestly saved allowance and pay from odd summer jobs. They were dusty now, but kept in fondly good condition--although they still bore the marks of an ardent reader in the dog-eared pages and creases on their spines. 

From the books, his eyes drifted to the picture frame on the other side of his shelf/headboard. The photo was of himself and his parents, taken during a summer spent in America--he'd been sixteen, and Ran had come along; they'd gone touring and bicycling and eating at restaraunts and even swimming and hiking. His parents made him go to America with them almost every summer, but _that_ had been one of the best summers in his memory; with Ran beside him, the adventure had been complete. They'd had such _fun_, and he'd felt so protective of her; his English was fluent where hers was halting, his knowledge of customs familiar where hers was untried. He'd had to help her along, translate for her, introducing her to his American pals and favorite places to go. She'd even held his hand sometimes, when she'd gotten nervous or shy... 

God he missed those days. 

Drat--there he was, doing it again. He wanted to feel better, not drown himself in woes and regrets. He blinked himself back to the present, back to gazing at the picture again. Though it would take hot pokers and a torture rack to make him admit it, he missed his parents. He loved them, even with all their oddness and eccentricities. It sort of hurt that they had gone abroad, spending so much time away from the place he had always considered _home_. They had offered him a place with them in America; they had wanted him to come along, but he couldn't go--he couldn't leave Ran. If he moved to America, started going to school there, only came to Japan on vacations...that would make it _forever_. This place would no longer be _home_. 

No; as much as he loved his parents, this house would always be home. Wherever Ran was--that's where his home would be. 

Hell, he was _living_ with her now... 

_Dammit, do **not** think about that. Just the happy things right now...that's all I want to handle..._

His eyes were drawn to his father's face in the photograph; handsome, familiar features graced with his usual secretive, knowing smile and intelligent eyes--Shinichi's intelligence had come from that man; he'd inherited his father's razor-sharp wits, quick intellect, perfect memory, flawless reasoning... 

_"Go ask your father why you're a thief."_

The memory of Kid's voice brought reality crashing back in on him. 

Shinichi gritted his teeth in aggravation; he'd wanted to forget last night entirely. It _hurt_ to remember how close he'd come to actually _stealing_ something--how far over the line he'd stepped in his pursuit of Kid. 

What did his father have to do with him not-quite-inadvertently _almost_ stealing a piece of antique hair jewelry? Granted, he wouldn't even have been able to get inside the house without his father's instructions on opening windows with alarms... 

He blinked. 

Come to think of it, most of what he'd done in that house had come from the skills his father had taught him. And his father sure knew a lot about that sort of thing; he knew about locks and alarms, about disguises and steath. He was always sneaking into places--hell, he turned up in the oddest locations at the oddest times when he was around... 

His blink was replaced by a soft gasp. "No way..." 

_Dad can do all that stuff...almost like Kaitou Kid... Wait...what does Kid know about my father? Is that his secret--that my father was...is...could be...? No...no **way**...! _

"Go ask your father why you're a thief." 

Shinichi was out of his room and downstairs in a flash, heading for the telephone that was conveniently _right there_ at the base of the stairs. His fingers blurred over the buttons, picking out the familiar digits of his parents' number in America. 

The phone on the other end rang...and rang...and rang... He was starting to get impatient, wondering what the holdup was--when the line picked up and a drowsy female voice said, "[Hello?]" in sleep-muffled English. 

"Mom? It's me--lemme talk to Dad, quick!" 

"Huh?" Yukiko Kudo yawned on the other end, somewhat befuddled as she switched to her native tongue. "What? Who is this?" 

"I need to talk to Dad." He pitched his voice as low as he could, trying to sound as much like himself as possible--drat, where was his bow-tie when he needed it? "Mom, it's me, Shinichi!" 

"Oh..." His mother yawned again. "Shinichi...honey...do you know what time it is?" 

"Never mind! Just put Dad on the phone, please!" 

"Eh...alright..." There were muffled noises on the other end, and his mother's tired voice saying distantly, "Dear, your son wants to talk to you." 

After a moment, his father's crisp--but slightly sleepy--tones sounded. "Shinichi? What's up, son? I would have thought you'd realize what the time difference is, here--" 

Shinichi took a breath, gulping, then spoke. "Dad, _why am I a thief?_" 

There was utter silence on the other end. Some part of Shinichi's mind registered that this was, quite possibly, the first time in his memory that his father had been shocked speechless. 

After a short eternity, Yuusaku Kudo cleared his throat. "Hrm...what...what makes you ask that, son?" His voice was quick and precise, like usual, but there was something...strained about it. 

Shinichi took _another_ breath, this one a shaky quavering inhalation--before the whole story poured out in a jumble. "Dad, I ran into Kaitou Kid--he sent me this email almost like a challenge and he talked about this _secret_--see I was after him last night and I broke into this guy's house with all the things _you_ taught me--Kid was watching me, he said it was a _test_--and I almost _took_ something, Dad, this big diamond with gold and stuff--Kid set it all up just to make me _do_ that--I thought I was after _him_ but I kept going on and on and I kept _doing_ stuff I shouldn't have--he had to save me 'cause I screwed up, I can't _believe_ that--and he said he _knew_ I'd do that because eagles fly and he said to ask you 'cause..._you'd_ know why I'm a thief...and... Dad...?" 

His nervous mind finally realized that something was _wrong_. His father would usually have interrupted him by now, demanding that he slow down, compose his thoughts, and speak logically. But there was nothing--silence, only his father's slightly ragged breaths on the other end of the line. 

"Dad?" His tremulous query sounded just like a frightened little boy's, high-pitched and unsteady. "Dad...why? Why would he say that? _Dad...?_" 

"Shinichi...what did you _do?_" 

Yukiko's voice came up in the background, unintelligible but sounding concerned. With a gulp, Shinichi was quick to reply, voice cracking. "I didn't _mean_ to, Dad, it just _happened_--but I threw it back, I didn't let Kid take it! But he was there, he said I would have--why, Dad? Tell me _why!_" 

"Son, this isn't something you need to worry about--" 

Shinichi felt a sudden flash of anger; his father was not going to brush him off this time. "_Dad!_ What do you know about Kaitou Kid--and _not_ just what's in your files! Are you connected with him? How does he know about you? What does he know? Dad, _tell me!_" 

"Listen--just listen to me for a second, Shinichi." Yuusaku's voice was definitely strained--more tense than Shinichi could ever remember hearing it. "This doesn't really concern you. It's just some old business... Look, when I married your mother my family was...involved in some things that I'm not really proud of. It would have been bad for her, even dangerous...I made some difficult choices back then, but I had to get out of that life. For you mother--and for _you_, son. Believe me, this is for the best--you don't really need to concern yourself with it." His tone picked up, made a half-cracked attempt to be jovial. "You've got your own 'little' problems, now, don't you? Don't fret about this, Shinichi." 

"Dad...dammit..." His seven-year-old face looked almost frightening with such vehemence. "Won't you give me just _one_ goddamn straight answer in my life?" 

"I'm serious, Shinichi. These are _my_ problems, not yours," Yuusaku asserted gravely--before his voice lightened once more. "And it's a terrible hour to be calling, you know. Your mother and I need our sleep--don't worry so much, son. Everything'll be fine." 

"Just answer me for once--!" 

"I'll talk to you later, kiddo. Bye!" 

"Dad, _wait--!_" 

The line was dead. 

Shinichi slammed the phone into the cradle with a curse, whirling away, hands fisted. "Damn him, won't he _ever_ tell me the truth?" 

Teeth gritted, he fisted a hand in his hair and tried to think. _What the hell was his family involved in? What was he involved in? Something illegal--something do do with Kid...? _

Wait...was Dad...a thief...? No...**no way**...he's always been a detective...right? He writes mystery novels...used to help the police when he was younger...but... What if...what if he **was**...? Oh God, what if **that's** why he spends so much time abroad? If he **did** something a long time ago, and he's still **wanted** for it...oh no...! 

The terror of that final thought sent Shinichi scurrying to his parents' room. Ripping open the door he'd so carefully closed just a while before, he dashed to the bedside and yanked open the drawer of his father's nightstand. He found papers and small belongings--he read over each, tossing it aside when he was done. Nothing there--so he pulled a shoebox of letters from beneath the bed and went through those. Letters from Yukiko, most dated after Shinichi was born. 

The next target was his parents' closet. He tore everything down, piling left-behind clothes on the bed and rifling through boxes left on the topmost shelf; adrenaline gave him the strength to scale the shelves and bring them down. Nothing there--nothing important. 

When the room was torn apart, he stood there for a second, momentarily at a loss--before he dashed out again, eyes wild and focused. 

His next stop was his father's study/library. His father's desk drawers contained nothing but novel manuscripts, most of which were old and already published by now. At the bottom of the center drawer, there was one old-looking car insurance registration, torn in half--and the half with the name on it was completely missing. The filing cabinets also contained nothing but inane things--the family finances, legal papers, Shinichi's report cards, house plans, retirement information for Yukiko's parents...on and on, nothing suspicious. He did find some family records in the back of the bottom drawer; his parents' marriage certificate, their birth certificates, several legal forms pertaining to citizenship and residence--and his own birth certificate as well. 

The oddest thing about it was that each of these documents was a _photocopy_, not an original. 

Maybe his parents kept the originals with them...? 

The family photo albums were stored in the library, and he went through each one at a rapid pace, paying attention to details he'd never noticed before. There were so few pictures of his parents' wedding, and the first part of their marriage was nearly blank. The volume of photographs did not increase until at least a year after Shinichi himself was born--then, it seemed, the books were full of all sorts of events from his young life. Even images of the _real_ seven-year-old Shinichi Kudo, a perfect copy of Conan Edogawa minus glasses--but his eyes were full of the innocent sparkle and playful laughter of a true child. 

But there were no clues here--none that he could find. 

Shinichi's mind then turned to the boxes of junk in the upstairs hall closet--and the attic. What else lay in those hidden places, besides his father's tools? _Thieving_ tools... 

With a violent shake of his head, he ran upstairs, panting and sweating by now. The hall closet was first in line--mainly because it was on his way to the attic--and it was swiftly torn to pieces just like his father's room and desk. Nothing but his father's old costume supplies; wigs of many styles and colors, hats of all types, clothes from the sensible to the questionable. The only papers he found were pages of notes on people Yuusaku had been imitating, or investigating, or whatever--all with no dates. 

When the closet was turned inside-out, the last stop was the attic. The attic ladder/stairs were as difficult as ever for his short legs to scale, but this time he paid no attention to his handicap. The attic was full of trunks and boxes, all-but-antique furniture, his old crib and playpen...he'd just been up here a few days ago, searching through his father's boxes for tools. This time, he was looking for evidence. 

But just like the hall closet, a seasoned detective wasn't the one looking through the containers--it was a flustered teenage boy in the body of a child, searching for the truth about his father. He left chaos behind him, piles out of upended boxes, papers and books and knick-knacks scattered everywhere. He didn't stop for a second to think about the mess he was making. 

For the longest time, he found nothing; he was down to shoving already-searched boxes aside and scanning for anything he might have overlooked--anything he might have missed. He even managed to move an old loveseat, nearly breaking his back in the process but somehow getting it out of the way and burrowing into the big stack of furniture in the back corner of the attic. He even looked through the empty drawers of his grandmother's vanity table, somewhere in the mix. 

Somewhere back there, behind the stacked chairs, beyond the disassembled dining room table, beneath the dust cloths and years' worth of attic filth, he found a trunk. 

An old trunk, somewhat nicked and scratched and faded with time, made of velvety black-finished wood and mounted with brass hardware. It was buried under the junk in the corner--and it was also locked by a large, ornate padlock. 

With renewed fervor, Shinichi set about relocating the pile of furniture; such a handsome trunk packed away beneath piles of dust cloths and moldy old antiques was _beyond_ suspicious in his mind. Seven-year-old hands weren't the best tools for moving heavy wooden tables, chairs that were much bigger than he was, or a vanity-dresser that weighed many times what he did. 

His desperation gave him strength. Somehow, sneezing in the dusty air and covered in perspiration, he labored inch by inch to shift the clutter out of his way. Occasionally he could spare a thought or two to wish he were seventeen again--this would've gone much quicker--but most of his brainpower was wrapped up in freeing the chest from its furniture prison. 

Once a path was cleared, he grabbed the brass handle on the nearest end of the trunk and dragged it out of the corner, into the light. His prize unearthed, he pulled the last dust cloth off the top of the chest and threw it aside, revealing the beautiful wood-and-brass trunk in all its glory. Wiping sweat from his brow, he spared the heavy padlock a half-smirk. 

_Too bad Dad taught me to pick locks..._

One of his father's numerous lockpick sets had been in a nearby box; all Shinichi had to do was fish it out and go to work. 

The big lock turned out to be worthless--a fake, it came undone in a snap. The tricky part to the trunk was that it had two _hidden_ locks on either side of the front, concealed beneath small hinged portions of the brasswork, which had to be released simultaneously--a difficult task without the keys. 

_It's just too bad Dad taught me how to pick locks **really** well..._

The trunk was open in only a couple of minutes. 

With a grunt, Shinichi heaved the lid back, eyes widening as he took in the items inside. They were arranged neatly and in order, obviously packed away long ago and meant to stay that way. 

Shinichi tore into the tidy arrangement without a second thought. First to come out was a load of disguise equipment; rubber masks, cracked and flaking by now--containers of makeup, dried out with time--folded-up wigs of real human hair, obviously hand-made. Under all that was a layer of tissue and some mothballs; beneath that was a collection of what looked like...confetti? Dried flowers? Bouquets, wands, cups, decks of cards, a weird-looking gun-like weapon, small packages full of unknown gizmos, several black feathers, and a pair of black mens' dress shoes. 

Shinichi had to lean into the trunk, his feet coming off the floor as he nearly fell in every time he reached to grasp another item. His eyes widened more and more the deeper into the chest he went. _This stuff is... No, it couldn't be...**no**..._

Halfway down into the trunk was a container/platform that separated the top compartment from the bottom; it could be lifted out to reveal what lay below. Once that was out of the way, Shinichi found a hatbox and a folded-up black tuxedo, and doubled up in the tuxedo jacket was a red silk shirt. Beneath the tuxedo pants lay a light cape, black with red lining. The bottom of the padded, velvet-lined box was empty except for the hatbox--and when the lid of the hatbox was off he found a gorgeously well-made top hat, black with a crimson band. 

_What the hell is all this? This **can't** be..._

There was still nothing here, nothing that he _needed_. He dropped back to the floor, hands resting on the rim of the trunk...and found himself staring at the interior of the lid, at the fancy red velvet and the embroidery... 

Gasping, he lurched around the side of the trunk, small fingers searching the inside of the lid for something that might open--anything that might give him a clue--! Top center, he found a little hook-latch hidden in the gold metallic embroidery; undone, a small flap in the lid fell open, dropping a slim, sealed file folder into the bottom of the trunk. 

Clambering up on the side of the trunk once more, he scrabbled for the folder while trying not to fall headfirst to the bottom of the chest. Once he got ahold of it, he jumped back and plopped down on the floor right there, shaking fingers carefully breaking the taped seal. 

The thin folder contained only one document. It was something official, by the paper and print; he turned it over to discover that it was a birth certificate--an original copy, watermarks and all. _His_ birth certificate. 

But there was something _wrong_; he puzzled over it as his tired brain strove to assemble the discrepancy. For a few moments he just _stared_ at the document, trying to understand what was amiss. He started to get it when he read his name--his name... 

_Oh God, my **name**..._

The kanji for the last name--it wasn't Kudo. It was very clear, in perfect official calligraphy... 

**Shinichi Kuroba**

_No...**no**...this can't be happening...!_

It couldn't be right...the photocopy in the files downstairs wasn't like this--it read "_Kudo_" clear as day. _But if this is the **original**, then...why is the copy...?_

"God...Dad, what did you do?" his voice creaked out hoarsely as he began to understand. _You faked my birth certificate...you doctored all those photocopies...! Dad, __why?_ Why did you have to lie like this? What did you do--and who are you? **Who am I_?_**

"Dad..." His face was twisted into a grimace of confusion and anger. Still clutching the incriminating document, he half-fell down the attic steps and raced downstairs, launching himself at the telephone. He hit Redial without pausing, his harsh breaths coming more from his roiling emotions than his aching lungs. The other phone rang and rang... Endlessly, Shinichi waited for a response, but even after six or seven rings, there was no answer. 

After nearly twenty rings, he finally gave up. Setting the phone back on the cradle, he stumbled to sink nervelessly to a seat on the stairs. The certificate fell from his fingers and fluttered to the floor, landing face-up, staring at him accusingly with his fake/real name written out in black, unforgiving ink. He stared at it blankly, reading the kanji over and over...and began to shake. Pulling his knees up, he pressed his face into his arms and silently cried. 

_It's all a lie...my whole life has been a lie! There's no "Kudo," just years of deceit...Dad...why? **Why...?**_ He was alone with his misery, sobbing softly until he felt weak and drained, his mind still spinning as painfully as before. _All a lie...all of it...**all a lie**..._

Indeterminte minutes passed; he heard a noise, but it didn't register until he heard the voice. 

"Well...I guess you know, huh?" 

Startled, Shinichi jerked up, staring. He found himself looking into a mirror--a fun-house mirror of his older self, his image slightly altered. For a crazy instant he thought he _was_ looking at Shinichi Kudo--but no, this wasn't Shinichi; they just looked enough alike that it was eerie. The newcomer had shaggier hair a shade darker, features just a bit more rugged, shoulders a scant touch broader...they weren't identical, but the similarities were extraordinary. 

Most striking of all, their dark blue eyes were exactly the same. 

The same in all but manner; the stranger's eyes sparkled with vibrant, impish naughtiness--subdued at present--where Shinichi's would sometimes glimmer in muted mischief, at best. The young man was squatting perhaps six feet away, elbows resting on his knees, regarding the boy with an expression that was equal parts relief and sympathy. 

Shinichi gulped, frantically wiping his eyes--not knowing that his attempts to do so left dusty blackish smudges across his face. "Wh-who are you?" he stuttered, at a loss as to why this person was addressing him at this point, or why this person was in his house. 

"A friend, I promise." The newcomer gave him a crooked smile. "My name's Kaito. Kaito Kuroba." 

It took a second for that to sink in. 

When it did, Shinichi nearly choked on his own tongue, gasping out his words. "But--you mean--_that_ Kuroba--?" One hand flung itself out to point at the document still lying on the floor. 

Kaito glanced at the paper, then scooted forward to pick it up and look it over. "Heh, well, whadd'ya know..." He grinned up at the boy, looking rather pleased. "Yeah, I'm 'that' Kuroba. I told you you'd find your secret, Shinichi." 

That drew another gasp from the boy; he stared at Kaito in abject confusion at first, reaching into memory for a face--and more importantly, a _voice_ that wasn't being leashed into calm, cool tones but was instead speaking directly and fearlessly...about a secret. And there was only one person who'd ever spoken to him about _that secret_... 

Shinichi jolted, drawing back, eyes widening in shock. "You're..._you're Kaitou Kid?_" 

Kaito spread his palms wide, his grin never fading. "Guilty as charged." 

The next sound out of Shinichi's mouth was a sort of choked, squeaky warble, half yelp and half question. He stared at the youth before him with an expression that came very close to horror, equal parts stunned realization and utter disbelief. When his mouth finally consented to move according to his scrambled commands, the best he managed was a rather strangled stutter. "K-Kaitou Kid--_Kuroba_--b-b-but--is that--_c-can't_ be--!" 

Kaito looked rather amused at Shinichi's lack of coherence as the boy's words stumbled to a halt. "It's okay, Shinichi. Really, you can calm down," he said with a slight snort of laughter. "Yes, I'm Kaitou Kid. And I'm a Kuroba--Kaito Kuroba, just like I said. I can even show you my student ID if you want; the last name's the same as yours." 

"Same...as..._mine_..._?_" With a gulp, Shinichi managed to compose another halfway-articulate phrase. "Then we're...?" 

"Yeah, we're related." Kaito's face gradually became serious, his tone going from jovial to solemn in a few heartbeats. "It's been a secret for a long time--even I didn't know. Surprised the hell outta me. It's kind of difficult, but once you understand you'll realize why I came to you." 

"Wh...why...did you come here now...?" 

"I was sort of watching and...I saw you having a hard time with this, so I thought...well, I should come and explain things. I honestly didn't think you'd take it so hard; I didn't mean to...put you through this..." Kaito cleared his throat, suddenly uncomfortable, glancing away for a second before his usual demeanor returned. "Anyway...hey, can I sit here? Thanks." He stood and moved closer, taking a seat a couple steps below Shinichi on the stairs, putting their eyes at the same level. "Whoa! Take it easy, I don't bite." 

Shinichi had jerked away from him at his approach, backing tightly against the banister, eyes going wide at the other youth's proximity. He was slightly terrified; he didn't know what this guy--his enemy, Kaitou Kid--might do, and he was at _such_ a disadvantage right then. His shoes were at the doorway and his watch was at Agasa's; he was a scrawny little child and his opponent outmatched him by several feet and a lot of weight--if Kaito decided to harm him there wasn't a lot Shinichi could do to stop him. Maybe run, scream, and pray, and even then he wasn't fast enough to get away--not from a grown teenage boy, and certainly not from Kaitou Kid... 

"It's okay, I won't hurt you," Kaito said, moving slowly and scooting away a bit to give Shinichi space to maneuver if he felt he had to. "I didn't come here to pick a fight--I didn't even bring any of my usual gear." He blinked, reconsidering. "Well, just my bird and--" The aforementioned white dove seemed to pop out from behind Kaito's head, perching on his shoulder. "--oh, a deck of cards..." He set the stack on the staircase beside him. "Uh...hm, and..." He reached into thin air, and with a flick of his wrist produced a perfect, uncrushed rose. "Ah, that. Thought I forgot something when I was unpacking my stuff." Another quick motion, and the flower disappeared. "Sorry," he said with a grin. "I'm saving that for someone--gotta keep it nice." 

Kaito's constant, relaxed chatter helped put Shinichi somewhat at ease; the little impromptu magic show changed his fearful gape to a mere _stare_, really more of a dazed gawk. His eyes focused on the quiet white dove. "I...I thought you had a lot more birds..." he rasped softly--a silly statement, but it was the first non-panicked, non-stuttering thing he'd said in the last few minutes. 

"I do." Kaito smiled, more than happy to indulge Shinichi's bewildered curiosity if it would help the boy relax. "I just don't carry 'em all around when I don't have to--it isn't comfortable for them to be cooped up in my jacket for a long time. Mostly they just hang out around my house--drives my mom nuts, having to clean the windowsills all the time..." He chuckled, privately glad to see a faint smile in response from Shinichi. 

As if bored by his master's lack of attention, the dove on Kaito's shoulder fluttered lightly to the stair carpet, strutting its way over to Shinichi's leg. It pecked gently at his pants, then hopped up to his lap, cooing softly. Shinichi stared at the bird for a moment before tentatively reaching out to pet the dove's smooth feathers. 

"Heh, I thought he'd remember you," Kaito commented quietly. "That's Shiro. He's one of my best--damn smart for a pidgeon, and he's really well-trained. I was so glad you saved him that night in Osaka--I'd hate to lose him like that." 

Shinichi blinked, looking from the dove to the youth and back again. "This is..._that_ bird?" 

"Yeah." Kaito grinned. "Hey, I think he likes you." 

For a few moments, Shinichi just stroked Shiro's downy feathers while the dove voiced its contentment in gentle pidgeon-murmur. Kaito remained still, waiting, not wanting to push him or upset him any more than he was. After a while, the boy took a deep breath that only shook a little...and finally looked up at Kaito with clear eyes. 

"So, Kaitou Kid...Kaito Kuroba...why did you come here?" he asked at last, his voice slightly rough but clear and steady. 

Kaito finally let out the breath he'd been holding since he'd first introduced himself. "It's a long story, really, but the gist of it is that...I thought we could help each other out. We're both after the same thing, really...just going about it different ways." 

Shinichi's eyebrows went up. "But...wait, you're a _thief_, and...you're after the--?" 

"The Black Organization...or maybe whoever's behind them, I'm not sure," Kaito replied, eyes darkening. "All I know is that they're out there, and whatever they're after is _big_--it goes beyond money and drugs and all the usual crap." 

"But...how...how did you get this kind of information?" 

Kaito shrugged. "You and I just move in different circles." His grin returned somewhat. "That's why I thought we could help each other. We've both got a score to settle." 

"Really?" The usual alert, wary skepticism in Shinichi's eyes was gradually returning as his keen mind began to recover from the morning's shocks, its recuperation bolstered by the thought of the Black Organization. 

"Really." Kaito didn't want Shinichi to go into his Detective Mode, all guarded and suspicious--at least not yet; the boy had to stay open and inquisitive for a little while longer. He sighed; time to lay all the cards on the table. "I'll tell you what I know--I'll tell you how I found out about you, and this whole family business. I'm being honest, here, y'know--the least you can do is _listen_." 

Shinichi bit back the mistrustful retort that had been brewing in the back of his throat. If nothing else, Kaito was right about that; he'd come to see Shinichi as the supplicant, asking to be heard out before judgment. He'd even told Shinichi his name..._if_ that was the truth, of course. "Alright," he said, still absently petting the dove in his lap. "I'll listen." 

Kaito leaned back against the wall of the stairway, eyes going distant as he remembered. "Okay, let's see...from the beginning. Well, I first got curious about you way back when you almost cornered me during the Clock Tower incident..." 

And thus began the story of their first contact...and what happened after. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Please don't lynch me, please don't lynch me, please don't lynch me... _

Next chapter is on the way--Kaito's side of the story, as told to him by Jii. I'm working as fast as I can, please continue to be patient! Thank you all for the reviews and support so far! 


	6. Double Checkmate

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 6: Double Checkmate**

_*Flashback*_

Kaito immediately cornered Jii and demanded to know about Yuusaku Kudo--and his connection to Shinichi. Who were they, and how was it that they could defeat even the matchless Kid? It couldn't be a coincidence--not with Shinichi's uncanny mind and the way Kaito's father described Yuusaku's skills. 

Jii was, again, saddened and disturbed. But when Kaito pressed him, he relented, taking a deep quiet breath to tell his tale. 

"I don't know how you'll take this, young Master," the old man began, "but all I can tell you is what I know of the truth. It started many years ago, when your father was still a young man, not yet famous as the Great Magician Toichi Kuroba. As you know, your grandfather was a bandit magician as well, and he trained his sons in the art of the phantom thief--" 

"Hold on a sec," Kaito interrupted, puzzled. "Did you just say '_sons_'...?" 

"Yes, young Master, you heard me correctly," Jii replied. "Your father had a younger brother, who trained alongside him under your grandfather, the old Master. The brothers were in their late teens...that's when I first became privileged to serve the Kuroba family as manservant and assistant. It was at about that time that your father and his brother had finished their training, and were finally allowed to operate on their own." 

Kaito leaned back, eyebrows high. "I've got an uncle somewhere? _Che_, why didn't Mom tell me anything about this...?" 

Jii looked down sadly. "Because she had promised not to. It was long ago, young Master...you were only a tiny child then. You wouldn't remember him." 

"So who is he? Is he still alive? Where does he live?" Kaito's questions were quick and curious. 

"This information must _never_ leave this room, young Master," Jii responded, surprisingly direct. "It's a secret your father kept to his grave, and I was not to speak of it either, but..." He took another breath. "Your uncle is still alive; his name is Yuusaku Kuroba, although when he and your father had their quarrel and parted ways, he changed his name to--" 

"_Yuusaku **Kudo?**_" Kaito jerked upright, his quick wits having already jumped ahead of the old man. Jii nodded, and Kaito's jaw dropped. "Holy cow, that renowned mystery novelist? Geez, he's as famous as Dad in some places! It's him? _He's_ my uncle? And that would make Shinichi Kudo my...my...!" His voice ran out as his eyes went wide, his mind running wild. He gaped for a moment, gulping...and then began to laugh. 

Jii blinked. "Ah...young Master, are you...?" 

Kaito held his sides, trying to speak between chuckles. "Oh, this is too rich! I'm _related_ to the little twerp!" He broke out in another gale of laughter. "Ah, the irony! No _wonder_--brains must run in the family! I should have _seen_ it--damn, he's the _only_ one who _ever_ cornered me!" 

After a while, Kaito was finally able to breathe normally; he wiped his eys, chuckling, and looked to Jii once more. "So...here's a good question--just why _did_ Ojisan change his name and take off like that? Did he blow his cover or something?" 

Jii shook his head sadly. "No, young Master. Your uncle was every bit as good as your father; they made a powerful team, each with his own strengths and talents. However...Master Yuusaku was always the quieter of the two. Where your father loved to lead the police on a merry chase, loved to perform puzzling tricks and feats of deviltry in the spotlight, Master Yuusaku preferred to work from the shadows, stealthy and quick--he was a silent ghost where your father was a boisterous poltergeist. The most delicate, secret operations were his greatest performances." 

"Hn...so Ojisan wasn't a showoff, huh? Bet he never made a good standup magician." 

Jii smiled a little, wryly. "No, he didn't; he was more suited to quiet table shows and private exhibitions. But he was good--make no mistake, young Master, he was _very_ good. Were he still in the business today, I doubt you'd find him an easy opponent." 

"Why _isn't_ he still in the business?" Kaito asked curiously, eager eyes hiding his concern. 

"Your father and your uncle were phantom thieves by heritage and by trade," Jii explained. "However, in the daylight they each had their own hobbies and jobs. Your father, as you know, loved sleight-of-hand and illusion just as you do; over time, he became the famous magician, Toichi Kuroba." 

"And Ojisan?" 

"Master Yuusaku, being the quiet person that he was...had a love of books. Oddly enough, it was detectives and mysteries that enchanted him the most. As a youngster he loved reading about murder mysteries and famous detectives like Sherlock Holmes. Since he became quite an expert on investigation and deduction, he became the strategist for many of the heists he and your father planned; he could think ahead and accurately predict how the police would react. His reasoning saved them both many times." 

Kaito listened with rapt attention, absorbed in the tale. 

"When he was about your age," Jii continued, "Master Yuusaku started writing books, and called himself 'Kudo.' He took on the pen name to protect his privacy, since it wouldn't be safe if his growing fame revealed his shadow life as a phantom thief. He loved writing detective stories--so much, in fact, that he even began to _live_ the life by day. He was nearby when a murder was committed, and although he was a thief, both he and your father abhorred the thought of taking a human life. Master Yuusaku used his strong deduction skills to assist the police investigator with finding the real culprit. After that, he continued solving murder cases whenever the police called upon him--and even to them, he was known only as Yuusaku Kudo, novelist and deduction expert. They never knew his real name." 

"That must be where Shinichi got it from," Kaito murmured thoughtfully. "The guy can't help but jump on any murder case that comes his way." 

"I haven't seen Master Yuusaku's son since he was a baby," Jii said, almost wistfully. "If he has even half of his father's wits and charisma...he must be a worthy opponent for you indeed." 

Kaito scowled a bit, somewhat petulantly. "Hell yeah...he's annoying. Remember the 'bad feeling' you got about the Clock Tower job? Well, that was _him_." 

Jii hid his chuckle. "I expect that was a harrowing experience, from what you've told me." 

The youth just snorted. "Feh...anyway, what happened to make Ojisan leave the family?" 

"I'm not quite sure about that," Jii replied sadly. "There are obvious reasons for what he did...but no one knows for certain exactly what was said the night he left, except your father and Master Yuusaku themselves. I believe that things began to change when Master Yuusaku met Miss Yukiko, and he began to realize that his life in the shadows might be a danger to her. You see, by then your father and uncle had made some enemies in the underworld--" 

Kaito sat up immediately. "The guys who killed Dad?" 

Jii nodded. "Yes, and others like them. You know it as a rule, young Master--a phantom thief doesn't always keep what he steals. In truth, he should give back nearly everything he takes--the art of the return--" 

"'--is as worthy an art as the theft itself,'" Kaito quoted for him. "I know, I know..." 

"Yes, young Master. And because they often found out about these darker syndicates' planned robberies due to their underworld contacts, they would usually steal the items in a flamboyant manner before the other organizations got to them--and when the stolen items were returned, they would be guarded that much more carefully. In a way, it is a phantom thief's duty to protect the beautiful and valuable things of this world..." 

"Hey, don't get sappy on me now, old man," Kaito prodded, seeing the wistful look in Jii's eyes. "Keep going with the story!" 

"Ah...yes..." Jii cleared his throat. "As you know, this greatly angered these shadowy organizations, and eventually led to the Master's murder...but Master Yuusaku had left long before then." The older man looked sad, and somehow more elderly than he usually did. "At first, Miss Yukiko dated Master Yuusaku knowing him only as the famous writer, Kudo. As far as I know, he told her the truth about himself just prior to their engagement, and she kept his secret when they were married." 

"Mom and Dad were married by then, weren't they?" Kaito asked. 

"Yes...a couple of years before that, actually. Those were some happy times; both your father and your uncle had someone to love, and for a while everything went well. Phantom thieves by night, magician and novelist by day, they were content even though there was constant danger of discovery by one of their enemies." Jii smiled, eyes full of memory. "All of them were very close; your mothers became the best of friends, and even shared a little of the Masters' secret lives, learning some skills in disguise. Because their marriages were several years apart, it came as a great surprise that their sons were born at nearly the same time. It was thought that you and the other young Master, Shinichi, would be raised and trained together as phantom thieves just as your fathers before you." 

Kaito's brows went up at that. "Hm...come to think of it, Kudo would make one hell of a thief if he put his mind to it. He's sneaky enough as it is, with the little problem he's got right now..." 

"But it was not to be, young Master," Jii went on, face darkening. "You and Master Shinichi weren't even a year old when it happened..." 

"When _what_ happened?" 

"There was an attack--somehow, someone from one of the organizations had followed the Masters, and found one of their safehouses. It was extremely unlucky...horrible...I wasn't there but I wish I had been--I might've been able to do _something_..." 

"Hey, tell me!" Kaito insisted. "What did those bastards do?" 

"Miss Yukiko and your mother were there at the safehouse, waiting for the Masters' return--it was a dangerous mission that time, something of such importance that even Master Toichi never told me what they had been going after. When the attack came, the Masters were forced to stand and face their enemies, to protect their wives and sons...Master Yuusaku managed to get you and your mother to safety, but Miss Yukiko was badly wounded by an assassin's bullet, and young Shinichi was almost taken hostage--if not for your father's intervention, he would have been killed." 

Kaito's eyes were wide, transfixed. "Dad...saved Kudo...?" 

Jii's gaze didn't waver. "He could not let his brother's child become prey for those wolves. He risked his life for his nephew, just as he would have done for you." 

The youth sat in silence, thinking, his face unusually pensive. 

"It was after that incident that Master Yuusaku left," Jii continued softly. "He had nearly lost both his wife and his son in a single blow, and I believe that frightened him badly--so badly that he felt he could not continue the life of a phantom thief in the darkness. Even I don't know what happened the night your father and uncle had words, but...from what I've gleaned, Master Yuusaku tried to persuade your father to quit as well, but Master Toichi wouldn't hear of it--the incident had only strengthened his resolve to bring those organizations down. After that, Master Yuusaku changed his identity completely, moving away from the family home, falsifying his credentials, and slipping completely into the role of Yuusaku Kudo, mystery novelist. He severed all ties with the Kuroba family, to keep their enemies from ever finding them again." 

"He _knew_, didn't he?" Kaito asked breathlessly. "He knew they'd track down Kaitou Kid's true identity eventually..." 

"Yes...and he was right. Years later--" 

"--Dad was murdered," Kaito finished, his face hardened with a shadow of anger and sorrow. "Ojisan tried to stop him from being Kid because..." 

"Master Yuusaku always had a way of knowing these things," Jii said quietly. "After he became Yuusaku Kudo, the writer, he also tried to stop Kaitou Kid by force--by assisting the police in his capture. I suppose he thought alive in jail was better than murdured in the dark..." 

Kaito's head jerked up. "That's why Dad was so upset? In his notes he talked about Ojisan betraying him--" 

"The separation hurt both of them deeply--I could tell that Master Toichi was very depressed after his brother left us." Jii sighed, shaking his head. "I never saw Master Yuusaku after that night, not until your father died. He came to see your mother after the funeral, and we talked for only a while. He was grief-stricken at the Master's death, and felt that it was his fault for not being there to help, for not stopping Master Toichi from being Kid. Master Yuusaku had your mother promise that she would keep you away from the life of a phantom thief, to spare you the same fate your father suffered--and in her sorrow, she agreed. He was very concerned about you, young Master, and even saw to you and your mother's care from that day on." 

"What?" Kaito blinked. "You mean Ojisan didn't just--?" 

"Even your father's considerable savings could not last forever," Jii explained. "The reason you have been living so comfortably these last few years is because Master Yuusaku has been sending your mother a fair sum of money on a regular basis. That's why she hasn't had to work all this time, and you can afford to pay for your _nightly activities_ of late..." He caught Kaito's boggled look and raised an eyebrow. "Come now, young Master...you didn't think all that money came out of thin air, did you?" 

"Uh...well..." The youth gulped. "I guess I just never really thought about it before. I thought it was all Dad's money..." He cleared his throat. "So Ojisan didn't really abandon his family, did he?" 

"No...he told me he was always following Kaitou Kid's exploits, getting more and more worried about the risks your father was taking," Jii replied. "That day after the funeral was the last day we spoke--and the same day I left your family's formal service. Your mother asked me to go--she felt I had too much connection to your father's past, and obviously she never told you anything, until you discovered it for yourself..." 

"Whoa...Mom took Ojisan seriously, didn't she?" Kaito mused, almost sadly. 

Jii nodded. "Yes...and I imagine Master Yuusaku has already guessed what's been going on, ever since Kaitou Kid 'reappeared.' He probably knows everything by now--he was always very quick in his observations. I'm sure he hasn't said anything because of his secrets, but...without a doubt, he's been watching after you very closely." 

"It's nice to know he _cares_, at least," Kaito remarked. "But I've never met him--he's never come to visit, even on a pretense..." 

"He still keeps his secrets," Jii explained somewhat sadly. "Even to this day, he fears what will happen if someone realizes that the brother of Toichi Kuroba still lives." 

_And Shinichi's gone and gotten himself into deep shit with some of the same bastards that caused all this,_ Kaito reflected. _I wonder how Ojisan's handling **that**. Not well, I'd guess...he must have one hell of a Poker Face..._ "So...you think Shinichi probably doesn't know anything about this?" 

Jii frowned. "I would imagine he doesn't. That day after the funeral, Master Yuusaku said that ignorance is sometimes a child's best defense--the very reason your mother kept the secret of Kaitou Kid from you. And I know that Master Yuusaku is quite determined to protect his family. Young Master Shinichi probably knows nothing of you or his uncle; it's doubtful he even knows his true name." 

"Heh..." Kaito leaned back once more, grinning a bit ironically. "Wouldn't that arrogant little meddler blow a gasket if he knew he's related to the infamous Kid...!" He chuckled shortly to himself. "Hell, I'd love to tell him myself, just to see the look on his face!" 

"Young Master..." Jii said warningly. 

Kaito rolled his eyes. "I know, I know...it's all a big secret, blah blah blah....I get it already. Besides, if I told _him_ anything, I'd get arrested in a cold second. 'The Great Detective Kudo' takes no prisoners--and he's _especially_ annoyed with _me_, since I keep giving him the slip." That last sentence was accompanied by a completely unrepentant grin. 

Jii looked relieved. "I'm glad you undersand, young Master." 

Kaito shrugged nonchalantly. "Ojisan can keep his secrets, and Kudo can stay ignorant--all I need to do is keep on being Kaitou Kid, until I uncover the bastards who killed my father and see that they pay for what they've done." His grin returned as he rose from his place, turning to leave. After a pause, he glanced back. "Thanks a lot for telling me the truth, Jii. I know to be extra careful around Kudo from now on--after all...same blood, same brains!" 

With that, Kaito Kuroba walked out, bearing with him the newfound knowledge of his own past--and his true link to Shinichi Kudo. 

_*End Flashback*_

* * * * *

The two boys sat on the stairs with a sleepy dove and a pack of cards for a long time while Kaito related his tale of secrets and discovery in a quiet, even voice. Silent, Shinichi petted the bird in his lap and honestly _listened_, taking in the youth's words without rebuttal or interruption. Kaito fixed his eyes on middle distance as he spoke, his hands fiddling absently with the pack of cards, shuffling them to and fro with careless, unthinking precision. 

When the narrative was finished, Kaito wound to a halt, and for a few moments there was uneasy silence between the two. Kaito licked his lips and waited--for what, he wasn't sure. Disbelief, anger, a sharp retort--the sort of response he'd been expecting from the small boy beside him. 

Shinichi took a deep breath, at last looking up from Shiro's drowsy form to meet the youth's questioning eyes. "So...Kaito...you're my _cousin_." 

It was a statement of fact, only partially a question, spoken in a soft uncertain tone as if Shinichi were trying to confirm it in his own mind. Kaito managed a half-smile in response, shrugging lightly. "Yeah. Kinda funny, isn't it? Talk about ironic..." 

Shinichi's snort of reply was almost inaudible. "You can pick your friends..." 

"...but you can't choose your relatives," Kaito finished for him, his half-smile becoming full. "You actually believe me?" 

"Why not?" Shinichi replied quietly with a fatalistic chuckle, his eyes dropping again. "I talked to my father already, and what little he said...seems to confirm your story. And there's _that_..." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the forgotten birth certificate, not really wanting to _look_ at it. "You were right--there is only one truth...and my father's been hiding it all this time..." 

Kaito eyed him for a moment. "You're really upset about this, aren't you?" he observed keenly, voice hesitant. 

There was a catch in Shinichi's next breath, and his words were heavy with sarcasm that sounded alarming when spoken with the voice of a small boy. "No, not at all. I just found out my father's been _lying_ to me my whole life, and Mom's been in on it...and everything I knew to be true is all a pack of lies he fed to me and the rest of the world...just to keep his damn secrets..." The catch in his breath became a roughness in his voice as he went on. "No, I'm not upset at all. I'm just _fine_..." 

The next breath he took was shaky, and he ran trembling fingers through his bangs with a frustrated murmur of "_Dammit_..." as he tried to hide his emotions. Kaito caught the glimmer of tears in the boy's eyes when Shinichi glanced at him. 

"Hey, um..." Kaito carefully set a hand on one thin shoulder in an attempt to comfort, pulling back quickly when Shinichi jerked at his touch. "For what it's worth...I'm sorry. Maybe I should've kept my stupid big mouth shut..." 

"No," Shinichi interrupted, wiping his eyes. "I'm _glad_ I know. I'm always searching for the truth, so I'm glad. It's just...knowledge itself can sometimes hurt as much as lies. But it's a _clean_ sort of hurting, like when you have to wash a wound. Getting a wound hurts, and sometimes cleansing it hurts worse than the wound did...but it'll heal better in the end..." 

"'Zat so? Feh, then it's some job I did with the wound cream, huh?" Kaito snorted at himself, at his own coarseness. Before seeing how Shinichi reacted to the revelation, he _hadn't_ really thought about how he'd handled it. "I didn't make it very easy on you." 

Shinichi glanced away. "There _is_ no easy way to hear something like this." He frowned, looking down at the dove once more, his voice still hoarse. "So now what? Where do we go from here?" 

Kaito shrugged, hiding his sudden touch of nervousness, gazing at the boy. "I dunno. I guess that all depends on you. You've got me by the tail, Shinichi--you've got my name and my identity, and you could have the cops knocking on my door in a second. It's up to you." 

Shinichi glanced up at him quickly, surprised; _that_ thought actually _hadn't_ crossed his mind since the conversation began. "But...you've also got me," he observed suddenly, almost thoughtfully. "You could blow _my_ identity too, and give me away to the Black Organization if you wanted..." 

"Huh, I hadn't thought of that," Kaito mused, unconsciously echoing Shinichi's thoughts. "I guess you're right. But the operative phrase here is 'if I wanted.'" 

Their eyes met, identical gazes of dark blue. Shinichi saw honest hope, a tentative earnestness, behind the impish playfulness of the Kid; Kaito saw wariness, fear, and the first hesitant glimmers of acceptance, maybe trust. 

In the end, it was Kaito who spoke first. "I've got a good idea," he announced. "We should take some time to think about this, both of us. Let's say...'til the weekend? I cut class to come talk to you, so Aoko's gonna ream me out for _sure_..." He shook his head. "I think it'd be best if we meet again at a time when we don't have to worry about school or our companions." 

"School?" Shinichi blinked. "Crap, what time is it...? Ran's gonna come and I can't meet her like _this_." He didn't even have to gesture to indicate his sweat-tousled hair, tear and grime-streaked face, and the dust and dried perspiration that covered his small body. 

"Whoa, slow down..." Kaito checked his watch. "You've got time yet." 

"I can't stay here...she can't find me here...!" Gently lifting the dove from his lap, Shinichi stood up from the stairs, his eyes brightening as if he were just waking up. Roused from his nap, Shiro fluttered; Shinichi released him to fly back to Kaito's shoulder. 

"Relax, you've got at least an hour," Kaito said, stroking the dove's feathered breast. He stood as well, towering over Shinichi, who took an involuntary step back. "Guess I should get going, too. Places to go, people to see..." 

"Kaito..." Shinichi's voice was low, almost warning. 

"Hm?" The youth glanced at him. "Oh, don't be concerned with Kid, Shinichi. There won't be any more heists until you and I work this out. Okay? You can sleep soundly--I won't pull anything." 

Shinichi frowned at him for a moment, measuring the honesty in his expression, before looking away again. "Alright. But...this weekend...?" 

"How about Friday afternoon? Don't worry, I'll find you. And I _won't_ blow your cover--you have my word on that." Kaito's pack of cards went into a pocket; Shiro the dove just seemed to vanish somewhere along the line as the youth turned toward the hall and the door, waving as he went. "Take care, Shinichi. I'll see you around." 

Shinichi stood still, watching him leave. When the teenage thief was gone, out of his sight and out of his house, he took another deep, shaky breath. Alone with his own thoughts now, he struggled to assimilate everything he'd heard, everything he'd learned. 

His eyes fell to the birth certificate, still lying innocently on the floor. It hadn't been a dream, or a hallucination--the paper was real, smooth against his fingertips as he picked it up. The document still displayed the same incriminating kanji in stark black ink. 

**Shinichi Kuroba**--his name, his _real_ name; his true heritage, the secret that his father had been keeping all these years... 

His gaze turned to the stairway, his mind's eye focusing on the attic--on the trunk and its little secret chamber in the lid. He had to hide this certificate, never let anyone see it...at least until he decided what to do about Kid--his _cousin_, Kaito Kuroba--his parents, and his whole situation. 

He had two days to think about it. 

* * * * *

Right after school that day, Ran said goodbye to Sonoko and hurried toward home, swerving off course to take the slight detour that would lead her by Professor Agasa's house. And Shinichi's, too; strange...this route had been her usual way to and from school, before Shinichi had become so scarce. 

Shinichi was on her mind, as usual--more so now because of the gift she had given him and their recent conversation over the phone. That day occupied her thoughts constantly; it was the first time he'd called in _so long_, and she'd missed his voice so much. She missed his face too, but he so rarely ever appeared. He was becoming a ghost... 

A ghost whose image she saw so often in the little boy that lived at her house--a little boy who always made her _wonder_, no matter how many times he or Shinichi denied it... 

Conan and Shinichi were just barely relatives, right? Distant cousins only through Shinichi's mother and Professor Agasa. One of those genetic flukes that cropped up amongst cousins, that made them so alike not only in features but in _manner_, _personality_, _intelligence_...in their blue eyes that would sometimes just _look_ at her like _that_... Even with the word of Agasa and the Kudos, even through all she'd seen and heard, little Conan still just made her _wonder_. 

Last Friday night was on her mind for more than one reason. 

That evening, she'd been too excited to notice; she'd just heard from Shinichi, and she was overjoyed that he'd received his gift and liked it so much. Then there was her little half-joking demand of him--the stuttering promise he'd made...she hadn't even thought about it, because after that, Conan had come home and she'd had a wonderful present for _him_, too. And Conan had seen Shinichi--he'd been with Shinichi at Agasa's and could tell her how he was doing. 

Conan had been so cute and shy, giving her that kiss on Shinichi's behalf just to cheer her up. The curious little scamp was such a lovable dear when he wanted to be; whenever her heart was broken by Shinichi, Conan was there trying in his sweet childish way to make her feel better. 

There was a discrepancy in that evening's events that she hadn't realized until the next day. She'd been so elated at hearing Shinichi's voice, and so touched by Conan's thoughtfulness. It took some extremely boring math homework and a long stare out an empty window to make the facts fall into place for her; she'd been concentrating on things other than algebraic equations, running over the previous evening's events in her head--when realization had struck. 

How did Conan know that Shinichi had promised her a kiss? 

The question still turned over and over in her head, even now. According to Shinichi, Conan had left Agasa's house _before_ Shinichi had made his call, so there was no way Conan could have overheard--and even if he did, hearing only half the phone conversation wouldn't let him know that Ran had demanded that "payment" from Shinichi. And Conan wouldn't have heard her on the phone, either--she'd hung up the telephone and had been salvaging dinner long before he'd ever showed up, and even if he _had_ heard, he _still_ wouldn't have known about the kiss because he wouldn't have heard what payment Ran was talking about. On top of that, Shinichi couldn't have _told_ him because he hadn't walked Conan home--and Shinichi didn't talk about such embarassing things anyway. 

Those long-familiar old suspicions were back again, full force since last Saturday. She hated the uncertainty; even through all the things she'd been told, she still couldn't quite _believe_...because there was always _something_. 

And Conan had been acting different the last few days as well. Ever since that evening and the books, the boy had been withdrawn and moody when she watched him in secret, though whenever he noticed her presence he would immediately brighten into innocent cuteness, pick himself up, and start off on a chatter with "Ran-neechan!" and from there on be the perfectly sweet little boy she'd always known--until he thought she'd left. But he'd spent so much time at Professor Agasa's this week...and why had it not been a surprise when Agasa called her to say that Conan wasn't going to school this morning? 

She'd almost been _expecting_ that...as if she knew in her heart that something other than a fun new experiment had happened last night... 

Her speculations had distracted her all day at school, and she was still pensive about it. Now she had to pick Conan up...and the state he was in when she did would determine her pattern of thought for her next set of theories. If he was a happy, bouncing little boy with a sniffle, she would be reassured that it had indeed been a fun project and he had been brought out of his moodiness by Agasa's invention, and _had_ just caught a cold from the excitement--he did seem prone to respiratory infections, after all--and she could shove all her crazy Ran-musing back into the closet in her mind. But if Conan was depressed and not all that ill, if he was just being silent and hiding something, she would _know_ that something else had happened. But what...? 

Ran was not stupid; she lived with a private investigator and participated in cases, and had spent nearly all her life in fairly close proximity to police, mysteries, and detectives. She was no stranger to clues and deductions--years of hanging around with Shinichi had taught her _some_ critical thinking and logic skills. 

And from that, she was coming to some suspicious conclusions once more. Something was coming to a head--she could _feel_ it. Another confrontation--another demand for the truth that would be answered by a rock-solid alibi or excuse--another reason why she shouldn't suspect...but she still _did_. 

She put on her happy Ran-neechan face as she turned in Agasa's gate; if it was all just her wild ideas acting up again, she didn't want to upset Conan after he'd had a fun evening and spent the morning with a sniffle. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door. 

Ai answered it, quiet as usual, and led Ran into the living room to wait for Conan. Ran greeted the Professor warmly; Agasa responded but seemed somewhat distracted, while Ai disappeared into the back without a word. 

Ran frowned, sitting on the couch. _Is it just me or are those two a bit...preoccupied?_ she asked herself. _Something **must** have happened--more than the usual "Agasa-blew-up-his-lab-again" stuff. If Conan's involved..._

The object of her current musings came into the room rather abruptly, looking rumpled and missing his glasses, pausing to blink at her in surprise as if she'd just appeared out of thin air in front of him. 

"Hello, Conan-kun!" Ran greeted brightly. "I came to get you on my way home from school. Professor Agasa said you caught a bit of a cold--are you feeling okay?" 

The odd _look_ turned into a bright Conan-smile. "Yeah, I'm a lot better this afternoon," the boy replied. He seemed a bit tense despite his smile as he came over to her, snatching his glasses from the coffee table and slipping them on. 

Ran smiled, reaching out to run her fingers through his oddly disheveled--and slightly damp--brown hair. "Did you just take a bath?" 

Blushing faintly, Conan moved to sit on the couch beside her, unobtrusively--but noticeably--just beyond her arm's reach. "Yeah, but I couldn't find my comb, so my hair's messy." 

"That's strange," Ran contemplated aloud. "I could've sworn I packed your comb yesterday..." 

"Uh, I must've shuffled it around and dropped it when I was getting out my pajamas last night," Conan offered quickly, smiling. "It's okay." 

"Are you ready to go home?" 

Conan nodded. "Yeah!" 

"Alright then, go get your stuff and let's get going." 

The little boy pattered off, leaving Ran to watch him go. Her pleasant expression had shifted to thoughtfulness; Conan was her familiar happy little boy...but some of the _sparkle_ was gone from his smile. He _was_ still depressed--just skillfully hiding it; she knew him well enough to know that. He also didn't _sound_ like he had a cold. 

And with her thoughts lately, she had to _wonder_... 

In short order they were walking home, both carrying their bags. Conan trotted obediently at her side, his small hand clutching hers as they quietly followed the familiar sidewalk that would lead them to the Mouri Detective Agency. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, worried and curious; his face was downcast beneath his tangled bangs and all he did was watch the concrete go by, not paying any attention to her. 

"Conan-kun, what's the matter?" Ran asked softly. "You're awfully quiet today...are you okay?" 

"Hm?" He glanced up at her with a morose expression that only halfway made it to a Conan-smile. "Yeah, I'm fine! I had fun at Professor Agasa's." 

"You did, huh?" Ran tried to sound agreeable even though she was unconvinced. With a sigh, she let the matter drop, sadly turning her gaze back to the world in front of her. 

They had arrived at the Mouri Detective Agency, climbing the steps to the flat above, when Conan made a sound--a small strange sound, like a gulp mixed with a sigh. His soft quavering voice spoke up, barely audible, as his pace slowed enough that he tugged at her hand. 

"Ran-neechan, if...if I did...something _bad_...would you...still...like me?" 

Startled by his question, Ran stopped just outside the door and whirled to him, staring down at him. His eyes were fixed on the floor, though his small hand tightened on hers. Concerned, she knealt down to his level, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. "Oh...Conan-kun...of _course_ I would!" she replied honestly. "_Everyone_ makes mistakes--I _couldn't_ stop liking you just because of _that_. Whatever made you ask?" 

He still wouldn't look at her, so she put two fingers to his chin, drawing his gaze up. His eyes met hers once, then flicked away as though remorseful, guilty. His lips were drawn into a thin taut line that refused to open and answer her question. 

"Oh, Conan-kun..." She drew him into a warm, affectionate embrace, startled to note how uptight he was, how he tensed at her touch. She held him close, wanting to protect him from whatever was hurting him. He must've done something wrong, at school or at Agasa's, and was feeling horrible for it--he was usually such a well-behaved little boy, despite his oddities. If he'd gotten into unaccustomed trouble and thought that everyone would abandon him because of it...! "Conan-kun...you know you can tell me anything. If something happened...if it's bothering you...I promise I'll listen no matter what it is. We can work it out, you'll see--you can tell me, I promise I won't hate you. I _can't_ hate you, Conan-kun...you're too special to me." 

For an instant her speculations filled her mind--for an instant she wasn't sure who she was talking to, but she meant every word regardless. 

She felt his tension melt; his face buried itself in her shoulder and his thin arms came up to wrap around her in return, trembling. His breaths were thick and shaky as if he were about to cry. "Ran-neechan..." he whispered. "Ran-neechan..." 

"It's alright, Conan-kun...no matter what happened, I'll understand." She rubbed his back until his trembling ceased and it seemed that he'd relaxed. When his arms finally loosened and she released him, his face was red, but there were no tears on his cheeks. He stepped back from her and straightened his shirt, running one hand through his hair in an embarassed gesture that she found startlingly familiar. Pushing her own thoughts aside once more, she managed a good smile for him. "When you're ready, you can tell me. For now, let's go in and get dinner started, shall we? I bet you'll feel better once you get something to eat." 

He nodded mutely as she rose and led him inside. 

* * * * *

Ran was right; Conan _did_ feel a little better with a stomach full of her warm, delicious cooking. He didn't think he'd made it all the way back to his usual self, but he was no longer hanging by a thread. He even felt well enough to go start on his almost forgotten--and unbearably easy--grade-school homework. 

Scooping up his backpack and duffel from where he'd left them by the door, he headed to the bedroom to get started in private--he didn't like Ran to watch him unless he felt he had to show off his "scholastic aptitudes"...i.e., make her think he really _was_ a dumb little seven-year-old just starting to learn things like math and spelling. But with the way he was feeling tonight, he didn't want to prolong the torture any more than was absolutely necessary. He opened his backpack to fish out his books--and froze in shock, dismayed, coming to a horrified realization. 

He'd unloaded his books and papers at Agasa's to stock his pack with the tools he'd needed to break into Kyozou's mansion--and those tools and equipment were still inside. 

"Crap--!" he hissed, cutting himself off before someone heard. _Oh damn, I gotta hide this stuff! How could I just **forget?** How many times have I caught a murderer because he still had the weapon on him? Geeze, I must've left my whole brain unplugged today--!_

Zipping up his pack and half-hiding it under the blankets of his little futon, he raced back to the living room, not even having to wear a Conan-mask to appear as frantic as he needed to. "Ran-neechan! I left my books at Professor Agasa's house!" he blurted as soon as he was in the door. "Can I go get them? I'll only be a few minutes--" He was already grabbing up his shoes. 

"Hold it, hold it!" Ran strode across the room, wiping her hands on a towel--she'd been in the middle of washing the dishes. "It's after dark, Conan-kun. You know the rules about when you can go out alone." 

_Dammit..._ He gritted his teeth, quickly hiding his frustration. "But Ran-neechan, I _need_ my books!" he whined, putting on his very best whimpering tone, aided by his irritation. "I can't turn my homework in _late!_ Teacher will be mad!" 

Ran smiled. "Don't worry. As soon as I get done with the dishes, I'll go get them for you. Okay?" 

_But I **really** need to go **myself** to take this junk back to Agasa!_ "Okay..." he sighed. _Crap...beggars can't be choosers. But if Ran or Ojisan catch a glimpse of what's in my pack right now, I'm **dead**._

Immediately, he smiled widely for her benefit. "Thanks, Ran-neechan!" 

"You're welcome, Conan-kun. It'll just be a bit." 

He was already heading back out, already hard at work on his _next_ problem--how he was going to hide those tools here, and then at school tomorrow, until he could get them back to Agasa's and get rid of them. 

* * * * *

True to her word, Ran put on her coat and headed back toward Agasa's as soon as she finished with the dishes and dinner cleanup. It was just after dark so she kept her steps quick and purposeful, her eyes open for trouble just as her parents had always cautioned her. As she walked, her mind drifted back to Shinichi and the previous Friday, just as it had done all week; her thoughts were as confusing as ever and were beginning to frustrate her. 

Her theory about Conan's identity wasn't really what bothered her--it was the _uncertainty_ that hurt the most. Ambiguity upset her more than truth or lies. 

Agasa's gate was just ahead; she pulled out of her usual long, meandering reverie and shaking her head in chagrin. She picked up her pace, passing the Kudo residence without a second thought-- 

_Wait a second..._ She pulled up short several steps past Shinichi's gate, surprised. Eyes wide, she reversed direction and peered in the gate, startled to see... _**Lights?** There's lights on at Shinichi's house?_ Her mind went wild with unreasoning hope. _That means he might be--!_

She was through the gate and dashing up the walkway without an ounce of hesitation, face lit with a single solitary wish. _**Shinichi...!**_

His porch light wasn't on, although the front door was unlocked. She all but tore the door down, kicking off her shoes as soon as she was across the threshold and darting into the living room. "Shinichi? _Shinichi?_" she called, her voice echoing shrill through the corridors as she went from room to room, until... 

...until she stumbled into the study/library, and found the desk and filing cabinets torn apart, their contents scattered across the floor. Her jaw dropped at the sight; _never_ had she seen such a mess in Shinichi Kudo's home--this clutter was more Professor Agasa's style. 

_Oh no...could it be...?_ She gasped aloud, then whirled to go back through the house, checking every room. The study was in ruins, the elder Kudos' bedroom was a shambles, and the contents of the upstairs hall closet were strewn all across the carpet. 

It didn't take a detective to figure this out--a detective's daughter could easily see that someone had gone through these rooms like a buzz saw, thorough and hurried, looking for something important. Probably money or valuables, though none of the more obvious things were missing from their places. 

_The front door unlocked...the rooms torn apart..._ Ran all but fell down the stairs, rushing outside and turning toward Professor Agasa's. _There's been a thief in Shinichi's house!_

She banged on Agasa's door, shouting for him to hurry. When the older man appeared in the doorway, he was alarmed to see Ran in such a state of panic. 

"Ran-kun? What's happened? Is everything alright?" 

"Professor...Shinichi's house...!" She took great gulps of air, trying to speak. "Shinichi's house has been robbed! We need to call the police! Oh, it's all torn apart...!" 

"Oh my!" Agasa gestured her in quickly. "Hurry now, but don't panic. Here, why don't you go sit down and catch your breath, and I'll take care of it." 

"Thank you, Professor...thank you..." Still panting from her sprint, Ran slumped down on Agasa's couch and explained to him what she'd found, then rested while the scientist hurried to the kitchen phone. 

When Agasa got to his kitchen, however, the first place he called was not the police station. The auto-dial button set for the Mouri Detective Agency was quickly stabbed, and Agasa waited nervously through three rings before the other end picked up and a weary-sounding Conan recited, "Hello, Mouri Detective--" 

"Shinichi!" Agasa broke in quickly. "Hold on, it's me." 

"Professor Agasa?" There was a pause, and the semi-cheerful little boy was replaced by a tired young-man-speaking-with-little-boy-voice. "Ran's on her way to you. Did something--?" 

"Yes, something's happened, but I wanted to check with you first. Shinichi, were you aware that your house has been ransacked?" 

"_Huh?_ Oh..." Conan's voice cleared its throat. "Sorry, that was me. Thanks for making sure." 

"Er...was there any particular reason for that? Ran said she saw lights on and went in to see." 

"Aw...crap..." Shinichi sighed loudly. "I'm completely forgetting everything today. I left those tools from last night in my backpack and they're over here now, my kiddy homework is over there with you--Ran's picking it up--and now _this_. Just great..." 

"What should we do? If it was you, then--" 

"Gimme a sec and I'll call back with my other voice," Shinichi replied. "Ojisan's snoring drunk on the floor over here, so I think I can get away with it." 

"Be careful." 

"I will." 

Agasa hung up, and waited. A minute later, the phone rang, and he snatched it on the first ring. "Hello, Professor Agasa's residence--" 

"Okay," said the smooth tenor of Shinichi Kudo. "I got it. Let Ran talk to me if she wants." 

"Alright," Agasa said quietly--then raised his voice for Ran's benefit. "Oh, how are you, Shinichi? Forgot something, did you say? Ah, that's alright, I can take care of it..." 

Predictably, Ran was in the kitchen in a matter of seconds, eyes lit up like stars in her pale face. "Is that Shinichi? Did you tell him--?" 

Agasa hushed her with a gesture. "Yes, that's Ran--she just got here a few moments ago--put her on? Okay." The older man handed her the phone with a wink. "He wants to talk to you." 

Ran snatched the phone with all the desperation of a starving woman reaching for bread. "Shinichi? Where are you? Your house is all messed up--there was someone--!" 

"Hey, take it easy, Ran! You don't have to worry about the mess," said Shinichi's voice--music to her ears, so wonderfully even and reassuring. Even if he did sound...tired. "I did all that--bad manners, I know, but I was in an awful rush and I had to find something. I'll clean it up when I get the chance, I promise." 

Agasa was already stepping unobtrusively out of the room. Ran's tension eased upon hearing Shinichi's words--what little tension was left after hearing his voice again. "Well, I'm glad it wasn't a robbery! What's the matter with you, leaving such a mess in your own house? What would your parents think?" 

"Heh, they'd think I was growing a snout and a curly tail, like my mom used to say," Shinichi chuckled. "Sorry to make you worry, Ran. I'm glad you're looking out for me, even though I've been such a jerk to you all the time." 

"_Someone_ has to keep an eye on you, with your parents gone so much," Ran replied. "Shinichi, are you okay? You sound exhausted." 

"Oh..." Shinichi sighed. "It's just...some things about this case and...some family problems. I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I guess it's starting to show." 

"So the Great Detective Kudo really _is_ human," Ran teased gently. 

"Yeah...I'm learning that, slowly..." After his faint chuckle, Shinichi was quiet for long moments, as if gathering his thoughts. "Uh, Ran...if I was a total idiot and really screwed up with...um, if I did something pretty bad...what would you think?" 

The question struck her, having been asked for the second time on the same day--and by two people who shared so many similarities... "Well, I...I'd probably be upset with you, depending on what it was. But...if you're asking if we'd still be friends...of course we would! That's what friends are for, right? Mistakes are something to learn from, and if you didn't ever make any I'd _really_ start to wonder about you. But I could forgive you for anything, Shinichi--I could never hate you...you're very special to me." 

Shinichi's breath caught, just before she realized that she'd said the same thing to Conan. She waited for a small eternity for Shinichi to speak again--while her own mind whirled at the parallel. "Shinichi? Are you...still there?" 

"Yeah, Ran...I..." He gulped audibly. "Thanks, Ran. I'm glad you'd still... I really...appreciate... I just..." He stumbled over his own words, as if her honest statement had touched something. "I...I gotta go. This goddamn case is...well..." 

Ran smiled faintly. "It's okay, Shinichi. You can tell me when you're ready. I'll be waiting." 

"Ran..." 

"Goodbye, Shinichi. I'll see you soon." 

She hung up without waiting for his response, sighing as she set the phone in the cradle. When she walked out of the kitchen, Agasa stood there in the hall with a small stack of books and papers in his hands. 

"Professor?" 

The older man smiled at her. "I found these earlier, so I thought Conan-kun might need them. Here you are." 

Ran took the books with another sigh. "Thanks. I guess I should get going before it gets any later. Goodbye, Professor." 

As Ran walked home, her steps were not so quick, and her mind was full of Shinichi once more--Shinichi _and_ Conan. 

* * * * *

Predictably, Conan pounced on her the moment she came in the door. He was in his pajamas and slippers, ready for bed--it _was_ getting rather late, and if he wanted to finish his homework before bedtime he'd have to get through it lickety-split. He took the small books and papers from her with a grateful smile, thanking her brightly as he did. 

"You're welcome, Conan-kun," she replied as she removed her coat and hung it up. Her father was still asleep on the floor, sprawled uncaringly with a pillow clutched in his arms like a life preserver. "You'll have to thank Professor Agasa next time you see him," she continued, stepping past Kogoro's sleeping form. "He's the one who found your books and gathered them." 

"'Zat so?" Conan responded. "Okay, I will. Thanks again, Ran-neechan--I'm gonna go do my homework now." 

She was across the room by now, facing away from him, trying to keep her hands from curling into tense fists. "Conan-kun..." 

"Hm?" His small hand was reaching up for the doorknob, and he half-turned at her soft utterance. 

"Can I ask you something?" 

Curious, he faced her fully, though she didn't turn around. "Sure." 

"Conan-kun...the other day--on Friday...when I gave you the book..." She took a deep breath, plunging on. "How did you know that Shinichi had promised me a kiss?" 

_Oh shit--_ In shock, Shinichi froze, eyes going wide behind the concealing Conan-glasses. Startled by her question, he nearly dropped his books, his mouth falling open as he realized what an utter, complete _blunder_ he'd made. Ran still didn't turn to face him, but he could feel her focused attention as if she were standing right over him and glaring down. Every line of her seemed rigid, and there was a certain tension in the way she held her head up, the way her back stayed ramrod-straight. 

"Uh...well....actually I just...um....you know..." His mouth automatically produced his Conan-voice, automatically began spouting nonsense. He was shaking all over, realizing there was no way in hell he could talk his way out of _this_--he'd known it the instant the words had come out of her mouth. She'd obviously put the evidence together--she wasn't stupid, she hadn't forgotten it; he'd been just plain _careless_ to have done that...and his cover was so _totally_ blown...! 

His frantic stuttering fumbled to a halt when Ran turned to him at last; she was almost trembling, and her hands tightened into fists--but surprisingly, her expression wasn't irate or stern. She merely smiled cheerfully at him, a forced smile touched with weary resignation and hidden anger--a smile that caught at his heart and wrung it with guilt and shame and longing... 

_...God, if only I could just **say** it..._

Ran took a deep breath. "It's alright, Conan-kun," she said simply, softly. "You were just being sweet." 

Agape, he stared at her, heart pounding in fear and confusion. Hadn't she just--? And she wasn't accusing him--? She still called him Conan-kun, didn't demand he confess--was she being _deliberately_ ignorant or...was she, like Hattori had suggested, just waiting for him to tell the truth? Or was she just letting him off the hook...? 

She wasn't behaving like herself at all--she was controlling her temper, she wasn't lashing out with her usual passion, she didn't require the truth from him--and that was more than a little scary. 

Without another word, Ran turned and headed for Kogoro's room; he heard the closet door open and assumed she was fetching a blanket for her father. With her attention off of him, he took the opportunity to hoof it before the whole thing split wide open--whirling to dash out the door before he had to look at her smiling, suffering face again... 

In the bedroom, tucking a spare blanket under her arm to bring out to her father, Ran heard the door slam. With a rather sad sigh, her smile disappeared as she went about her business, more convinced than ever before that her long-held theory just _had_ to be true. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**IMPORTANT NOTICE: http://tailweaver.faithweb.com/dconan.html**   
_This little page is my temporary site for posting fanart and etc related to _Relative Truth_. Until I fix my FTP and get my website back up to speed, this is all I can do. Sorry for any inconvenience! _

Next chapter has some more revelations, a little outing for the "Kuroba boys," and--in answer to all the people who emailed and/or reviewed me to ask--Aoko **will** make an appearance! (Don't worry, I fully intend to use her as a character! Her stage cue just hasn't come up yet.) Whew, better get back to work...! 


	7. Countdown to Confrontation

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 7: Countdown to Confrontation**

Thursday, Shinichi would later reflect, was one of the longest, most miserable days of his entire life. It surpassed even Tuesday's indeterminate wait for sheer eternity of hours spent bored in school, spent hiding at Agasa's--spent wondering if Ran had really found him out and was either letting it go or thinking up something terribly dire to do to him. She had to be mad--she wouldn't be Ran if she didn't get mad. 

All day, his thoughts swung back and forth between Ran and Kaito like a crazy comet in some erratic bipolar orbit. Ran might _know_; she _had_ to know, the look in her eyes had been so direct--and what could he do? Lie again, get someone to impersonate him, use the phone trick again? And Kaito Kuroba would be coming on Friday, and he'd have to make a decision; he could finally turn in Kaitou Kid and put him away for good--and destroy the life of a boy not unlike himself, who was caught up in events surrounding an evil organization... 

One quandary dealt with his past--the other, his future. He could give up his past--deny his connection to Kaito Kuroba and end the legacy of the phantom thief forever. He could give up his future--tell Ran the truth, and lose her forever to the Black Organization the moment he was discovered... 

He was in it deep this time. 

He had rushed through breakfast and taken off for school before Ran was even finished grabbing her bag and straightening her uniform for the day. With Conan dashing ahead to meet and walk with Ayumi, Mitsuhiko, and Genta, Ran walked alone until they met up with Ai. Then those two watched Conan silently from behind as he avoided Ran's gaze and hustled along with his three friends. 

Conan found it impossible to pay any attention in school, and was chided several times by the teacher when he failed to respond to directed queries. During recess, the Young Detectives nagged at him for being such a wet blanket, but were soon rebuffed and gave him his space when he remained sullen and unresponsive. Ai merely continued to watch him in her usual quiet way, her face unreadable and impassive. 

After school, Conan followed Ai to Professor Agasa's house instead of going directly home, and asked the good Professor to call the Mouri residence with an excuse. He stayed there most of the afternoon, keeping out of Ai and Agasa's way, doing his "kiddy homework" and glad he could at last drop off the incriminating equipment he'd been hiding in his bag all day. 

He did _not_ look forward to going home this evening. No sir, he wasn't relishing the idea; he'd be walking into a minefield--Ran was there, she would definitely ask questions if he gave her even the _slightest_ reason to, she would want to know the truth... 

Shinichi wasn't sure just what he was going to tell her. 

He was _really_ in it deep this time. 

* * * * *

Like Shinichi, Ran spent most of her day in thought. Her constant wonderings kept leading her back to the same frightening conclusion--a conclusion she'd come to many times before, but she had always been proven wrong. 

Right? Telephone calls, mutual sightings, and promises counted as proof...didn't they? 

If what she dared to think were true--if Conan was really Shinichi, if he'd really been lying to her all this time--then where did that leave them? What was she supposed to think? What was she supposed to do? 

Shinichi was the one who always talked about the truth; if he had indeed been hiding from her like that for all this time, he must have a damn good reason for doing so. And if that were the case...did she really have the right to intrude? Should she just keep her mouth shut and go back to wondering? 

_No, I can't, not when it's **Shinichi** this is happening to...!_

Conan, Shinichi, whoever he was--he _had_ to know she suspected something; the look on his face last night when she'd turned to fix her gaze on him... And if he _was_ Shinichi, there was no way he could fail to see her knowledge--he always seemed to know everything anyway, so how could he miss it? 

And if he knew she knew...why hadn't he said something? He'd been avoiding her all day...even for Conan--if he _was_ Conan--this could be construed as guilty behavior. Shinichi was always such a hermit whenever he was upset about something... 

She was just as distracted in class as Conan was--and after school, even the sometimes-unobservant Sonoko caught on to her melancholy and tried to talk her into a cheer-up shopping trip. Ran declined politely, stating that she had things to take care of, and headed in the general direction of home. As her thoughts roiled inside her head, tumbling over and over in a random cacophony of wondering and worrying and hurting and doubting, her feet led her not on her usual route home but the _old_ one--the one that led past Shinichi's house. 

Automatically, she stopped at the gate, just gazing blankly at the house. It stood lit by late afternoon sun, empty and alone there on the Kudo property. Memories flooded her--Shinichi saying goodbye to her after a long day of school, heading up the walk; greeting her with a cheerful smile the next morning for another day of study...the times they'd met somewhere on the long stretches of sidewalk between their houses and just hung out...the times she'd spent with him, so much of it beginning and ending at this place... 

She had to reach up and wipe away the beginnings of tears. _All of that's changed now, hasn't it? Whether or not Shinichi's gone...whether or not he's hiding inside Conan...those times have passed, haven't they? We can't ever go back..._

Near-mechanical, she opened the gate and went in, heading up the walk and into Shinichi's lonely house. The lights were still on inside, as they had been last night--and those locations still remained a ransacked mess. Shinichi hadn't been home since last night--and she'd hoped...she might at least have seen a _sign_... 

Well, if he was unable to come and clean up his hurry-induced untidiness, the least she could do was help him out, as a friend. If his parents came back and found this mess, the poor fellow would never get off the hook. 

Taking a deep breath and shaking her head, Ran forced herself to smile, to tear her thoughts away from depressive subjects. Leaving her shoes at the door and her bag on the stairs, she proceeded to clean. 

There were few people who could keep house like Ran Mouri--Lord knew she put up with her sloppy father and a sometimes-forgetful little boy. She put on an apron she borrowed from Mrs. Kudo's kitchen, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work picking up the mess Shinichi had created yesterday. 

What a crazy disarray he'd left behind! He'd torn through tons of his parents' personal belongings, looking for something probably related to his father's notes on criminal files. Ran started in the upstairs closet, carefully packing things back into their boxes, guessing as to what went where by the labels on the box sides. It was slow going, and when she got to the master bedroom she tried not to look too hard at the things she was having to put away. She barely knew where to put some items, but somehow she managed. 

When she put her mind to it, Ran Mouri could accomplish anything. 

The mess in the study was just a bit confusing; she could see why he would go through his father's desk for information...but the family photo albums? He'd left them in stacks on the floor, some lying carelessly open. 

She wanted to put the albums back on the shelf in order, since the Kudos were just that sort of organized people. And to do that, she had to look at the photos inside and make a guess as to when they took place--and Shinichi's age was the best indicator. And, admittedly, she took a little longer looking through the albums than if she were merely cleaning them up. 

Ran smiled faintly as she paged through each album just a little _less_ briefly than necessary. Shinichi's baby pictures were _so_ cute, but there were so few of them. There _were_ plenty of him as a darling toddler, two or three years old, with big blue eyes and an adorably angelic grin--a grin of eager innocence he _still_ displayed at times, even at seventeen. That childishness was part of what made it believable that he was Conan, since Shinichi Kudo could still shine with all the enthusiasm and sweetness of a little boy where his favorite subjects were concerned. Only when dealing with murders and criminals did he slip into the cool, serious mask of a seasoned detective, composed, stern, and almost imposing with his all-seeing gaze and keen mind. 

When she got to the pictures of Shinichi as a grade-schooler, she knew what she'd find--Conan without his glasses, smiling wide and genuine, romping about and never sitting still. She found herself in some of these pictures as well; there was the trip to the beach when they were about six, and the Kudos had invited her parents along. There was the amusement park, the science fair, the trip to the snow lodge in Hokkaido; she was seven and her parents had just recently split up, so Shinichi had talked _his_ parents into going all sorts of places and taking her along--even then he'd been so concerned about her. She'd even gone to America with them for the very first time when she was nine--a short trip to what was then the Kudos' vacation house in Hawaii. 

She smiled as she looked at a few of those shots. There was a cute one of herself, in a flowered sun-dress, smiling happily with a giant Hawaiian bloom that Shinichi had put in her long dark hair--with him standing beside her, blushing all over because he'd been caught in the act by his mother and made to stay for the picture. 

She should have seen even then how much he liked her, she thought to herself. Looking back now, with mature eyes, she could recognize the signs. Shinichi was great at figuring out other people, but never so good at looking at himself; he'd had a crush on her forever and probably never realized it until very recently. She'd missed her chances because she'd been so busy trying to hide her own growing feelings, afraid that he'd tease her like he always did... 

But he'd _done_ so much for her. Despite the fact that he was so intelligent and articulate, Shinichi was never good at speaking his own feelings--he was much more demonstrative than vocal when he wanted to tell her how much he cared about her. He would use his words to tease and poke--and then hold her hand and lead her to a certain place at a certain time, just to stand amidst the fountains and see the rainbows arch in the sunlit spray all around them... 

_Actions speak louder than words,_ she mused silently, remembering. _Especially with someone like him. Especially now, with...all this..._

Setting another album on the shelf, she shook herself out of her reverie with a sigh. The next one, she guessed, Shinichi was maybe ten or eleven--and she was there as well; it seemed as they grew older their time spent together increased. He was still shorter than her back then--shorter than _everybody_ back then--and just getting old enough to start resenting his "vertically challenged" status. He knew enough to be considered a geek--straight A's in school, breezing every class with a brain full of incredible and wide-ranging knowledge--but was outgoing and skilled enough to be almost one of the "cool kids." 

Back then, they'd been well-established in their various activities and clubs and were starting to get really _good_ at what they were doing. She'd always enjoyed theatre and took part in the elementary drama club, and she and Shinichi both had been in the same karate class for several years. He'd been in soccer and was astonishing everyone with his talent after only a couple years; he became the Teitan Elementary Soccer League's little secret weapon--who'd expect the team shrimp to have a kick like that? 

He'd also surpassed her in karate for a while--for _only_ a while, before his interest turned to soccer completely and karate practice became merely perfunctory, something his parents insisted on. He'd quit the karate class three years ago, when his parents moved out full-time. He loved soccer almost as much as he loved Sherlock Holmes, and he'd only quit that last year once he'd started thriving on detective work. At that point, hoping to finally outdo him at something, she'd thrown herself into her karate practice and become quite the expert. He wouldn't let her compare skills with him since he quit--no matter how she tried now and then to egg him into fighting back--but she knew there had to be _something_ left of his former ability. He'd dodged her occasional attacks with remarkable aplomb, and the only times she managed to land a hit was when he wasn't paying attention...like, say, the skirt incident shortly before he'd disappeared. 

Speak of the devil--there were the pictures of their first big karate meet, when she and Shinichi both had advanced enough to compete at the higher levels in their class. The two of them, with his parents and her dad, had all piled into a van to carpool to the location, since her dad didn't have a car. She still had the trophy from that event--it had been about six years ago, but she still remembered the sweaty triumph on both their faces as they came out of their respective divisions with high ranks and high spirits. A memory surfaced: Shinichi had tanked water like a thirsty camel after the awards ceremony, despite his father's warnings--and on the drive home he'd ended up needing to use the bathroom _very_ badly while they were on the freeway and there wasn't a rest stop in sight for kilometers. Poor Shinichi had been quite desperate by the time his dad found an off-ramp and a gas station. 

Holding back a giggle, she paged ahead through the still-life memories. Looking at some of these pictures of eleven-year-old Shinichi, she absently tried to imagine him with a pair of glasses on--not hard, given a certain little boy as subject material. _Conan will look like this in a few years,_ she thought to herself, almost sadly. _**If** it's true...in a few years, he'll start becoming Shinichi again...won't he...?_

She shook her head again, vowing once more _not_ to become melancholy while looking over happy memories--it was bad for the soul. 

Another album displayed pictures of another of their trips to Hawaii with his parents. They'd been about...thirteen, if she remembered this particular vacation correctly. The year she'd been brave enough to learn a little surfing, and there'd been that Luau thing they'd gone to the night before they were to leave. She'd found herself adoring the Hawaiian-style teriyaki chicken almost more than was good for her girlish figure. Shinichi teased her that she was going to get as round as the pigs kept on the island--and then, gentlemanly, fetched her another serving of chicken. 

She turned the page--and blushed, seeing a picture she hadn't known existed. In a strangely beautiful time-forward mimicry of another day on the Hawaiian beach, Shinichi had picked another of those giant, gorgeous flowers that grew there, once again putting it into her hair to match the colorful sun-dress she wore. It was late morning on the day they were going to leave, and the picture was taken from some distance with what was probably a zoom lens, since in her memory there'd been no one around. It had to have been Mrs. Kudo--the woman was slightly crazy when turned loose with a camera. 

Only this time, it wasn't the aftermath of the scene; Shinichi was _really_ caught in the act this time, just finished setting the flower in her hair, his fingers _just_ trailing through a lock of it as his eyes met hers, and she was looking at him with a faint blush... 

Her blush now was a thousand times stronger than that had been--good Lord, she didn't know his mother had this picture! She had to wonder if Shinichi had ever seen this...and if he did, what he thought of it. They had still been fairly young then...but Ran still had that big flower, crushed and dried carefully and kept in a hidden, secret place. 

She quickly turned the pages onward, trying to cool the heat in her cheeks with newer, less embarrassing memories. The things captured in the photos were becoming more and more vivid in her mind, much more recent and well-remembered. Time flew rapidly by in the last couple of albums that she flipped through, Shinichi-the-boy quickly becoming the one she knew now, and longed for. 

He'd been midway between fourteen and fifteen when he finally left his "scrawny little shrimp" days behind--much to his brief joy. It had all seemed so abrupt; Shinichi suddenly shot up in height as his voice cracked deeper, and the change had been so swift even for him that he spent a few months gawky and awkward and feeling terribly self-conscious about it; he tripped over everything, knocked things over, and bumped his head on low-hung objects that he'd previously been able to trot right under. His "new" voice would cut out at random times, making his speech jump wildly up and down octaves and often come out nowhere near the pitch he intended; when he called her on the phone and said "Hi! It's me!" she almost didn't recognize who he was. 

For him, such clumsiness and inelegance was awfully embarassing, and being unable to express himself in an even tone was frustrating. His brief thrill at his new height turned to discomfiture, and he spent that time of transition in unfamiliar insecurity, quiet and rather timid in a a way he'd never been before; she'd found it quite hilarious at the time--and poked fun at him for it. But he did grow into himself fairly quickly, surprising her further at his transformation. In one short year he was several inches taller than her and beginning to put on muscle, his features sharpening and his voice settling into its adult timbre. Her little best friend--the familiar short, skinny boy she'd always known, always sort of pushed around, always hung out with; the kid she'd teased, laughed, fought, played, and cried with nearly all her life--had suddenly morphed into a talented, handsome, intelligent young _man_. 

And she was _quite_ aware; he was suddenly tall and strong and confident and no longer a pushover and so assertive... His gawky days finally over, he carried himself with renewed assurance and poise, secure in his own abilities and ready to take on the world all over again. It was at that point she'd begun to really realize her own feelings for him, really recognize them as the "girl-likes-boy" kind of _like_--although despite his physical changes and his new confidence, he still remained the same know-it-all, friendly, teasing Shinichi she knew, and she wasn't sure then if he felt the same way. It was then she'd begun to notice the other girls talking about how good-looking Shinichi had become since they'd gone into high school; at that point she'd started feeling almost resentful of them and worried that he might like one of them more than he liked her... She kept her mouth shut, always so proud; she could recognize her own jealousy, even if she would _never_--even under threat of death--admit it to him. 

The last album was set on the shelf as she sighed sadly. Someone had once chided her about missed opportunities, and how they might never come again. And now she chided herself for hesitating so much--she'd let her dream slip right through her fingers. _He_ might never come again either... 

Now that she wanted to be with him--_really_ be with him, even tell him _everything_ of what she felt--he was never around. Whatever had happened with the case or cases he was solving, wherever he'd gone...she just wished she could have the chance--one more chance to make it all right...to go back to the night at Tropical Land, grab his hand and tell him not to take off into the night, that she wanted him beside her... A wild idea flew into her head in that moment; maybe she should've just _kissed_ him, and _that_ would _definitely_ have taken his mind off of whatever he'd wanted to go and do that night... 

Maybe they'd be together now, if only... 

But...if Shinichi was Conan...then...they _were_ together. Sort of...but if it was true, it was a very _lonely_ sort of together; he'd let her believe he had left her behind all for a case... And the question _still_ remained: Was he or was he not Conan? Even after her long, happy reminiscing in the albums, her doubts and wonderings came back full force. 

Even as terrifying as it seemed, some part of her almost wished it were true, so that at least she could know that he had never really left her behind. The pictures of Shinichi at age seven and the memory of Conan, whom she saw every day--even though she'd seen it before...God, they matched so perfectly. _Cousins_ couldn't look that much alike...could they? 

Sighing sadly yet again, she stood up and looked around, seeing that the room was sufficiently cleaned and would meet the Kudos' approval. Maybe she'd get lucky and Shinichi would call to thank her for cleaning his house--and that would mean he'd come there. She pulled off the apron she'd borrowed, heading out to put it back in the kitchen. 

She was very startled to note the time on the kitchen clock, realizing with a jolt that she'd been occupied in the albums for several hours. By now, it was getting dark outside and Conan and her father would be wondering about their dinner. 

"Oh no! I _completely_ spaced out!" she cried, gasping and whirling out of the kitchen. She turned off a few lights as she went, hurriedly grabbing her bag and slipping on her shoes. She paused only once on her way out the door, turning to look back at the entry hall as if wishing that Shinichi were there to see her off, waving with his usual smile... 

Forcing herself to move, she closed the door behind her and hurried off down the walk, heading home. 

* * * * *

Conan stiffened the moment he heard the door open. Ran was home, taking off her shoes and putting on her house-slippers, carrying her bookbag to her room with a light call to announce her arrival. He listened carefully for the sound of her feet passing, heading most likely to the kitchen to get a slightly late dinner started. 

Of that, he was glad; with all that had been happening he could really use a hot meal--and besides, he adored Ran's cooking anyway. If she wasn't so mad at him that she decided he was going to starve...but she hadn't said anything--she hadn't come to find him. Either she'd had a good day and forgotten about all of it, or... 

Or she was just waiting to pop out and _really_ nail him. He gulped at that thought, nervously wondering if she would break out and demand everything of him at the dinner table. Or would she wait until afterward and corner him in the bedroom? With his thoughts still hung up on both Kaito and Ran, he was going through more than enough anxiety as it was. The waiting was really killing him--he almost wished she'd just come out and _say_ something, so he could get over that part of his stress. 

Unless she was waiting for _him_ to speak first...and he'd gotten so accustomed to lying to her for so long that he didn't really know how to tell her the truth any more... 

When he got up the courage to answer her call to dinner, she didn't act _too_ peculiar when he came into the room and sat down. She merely fixed him with a pleasant gaze and welcomed him to the table--although her usual sweet Ran-neechan face was absent--and he managed to reply with a somewhat half-baked Conan-smile. The meal was oddly _normal_, and that in itself was frightening. Kogoro Mouri had no clue that anything was unusual, and Ran served up the food and talked pleasantly about her day at school as if nothing were amiss. 

The only thing _wrong_ was that her Ran-neechan voice wasn't used when she spoke to him; he grew increasingly edgy as dinner wore on. The more they talked, the more like an adult she spoke to him--and at first, he responded in kind for several sentences before hastily correcting himself, forcing up his Conan-voice and babbling cutely, trying to make up for his error. After dinner, he fled to bed just to get out from under her gaze--her eyes were so deep, and they just had to _know_; he couldn't bear to see her doubting, suffering eyes any longer. 

If Ran noticed that Conan was just a _little_ bit neurotic that evening, she never said anything. 

* * * * *

Friday, when it arrived, came _quickly_. The day began fresh and sunny--and for Conan, _early_; his nerves wouldn't allow him to sleep any more. He was up, washed, dressed, and ready for school long before Ran even stumbled in to start breakfast. He spent the interim pacing--plunking down to fidget when his restlessness finally drove Ran to distraction and she ordered him to be still--and when breakfast was at last served he gobbled it rapidly and skittered out the door, once again leaving Ran far behind. 

At school, he was once again unable to concentrate no matter how hard he tried; today was the day. D-Day, the Big Day, the Day of Reckoning. Kaito Kuroba would come for him today. 

His constant fretting over Ran's awareness of his situation didn't help his focus any either. He couldn't decide which of his problems was worse--the fact that Ran might have found him out or the fact that he couldn't choose whether or not to turn in Kaitou Kid. 

The Ran problem was a large strain on his emotions; it could end messily, with Ran pissed as hell and kicking him out and never wanting to see him again. He couldn't bear it if he lost her...but she had every right to be angry. Even if it _was_ for her own protection, she was his closest friend and she didn't deserve to be lied to, not for so long. It wasn't going to be an easy problem to solve, and his _other_ predicament was only contributing to his inability to keep his identity under wraps where Ran was concerned. 

His other problem--personified in Kaito Kuroba, the son of his father's brother--was more of a moral dilemma. He didn't know Kaito well enough to feel any sort of closeness to him, but then there was that little issue of being blood-related to him. And that, frustrating as it was, made Shinichi feel somewhat _obligated_ to talk this through with his cousin. On the one hand, he felt negligent for not doing _something_ once he'd discovered the true identity of the elusive Kid...but on the other, if he turned Kaito in without settling with him fair and square first, he'd feel guilty _forever_--and worse, he'd be betraying _family_. Thus his dilemma--how did one find balance between duty to one's kin and duty to one's country? 

The hours in class were abysmally long, as usual; no matter what mind-bending quandaries or intractable mysteries he had to deal with, one full day of grade school always took a short eternity to get through. And they were doing math tables _again_--review, no less--and it took quite a bit of willpower to smile, sing along, and refrain from banging his forehead upon his desk. 

When it was finally over, his three usual tagalongs clustered around him on the way down the hall as he weaved through the rush of small bodies heading for freedom. Genta, Ayumi, and Mitsuhiko each wore near-identical stern, concerned, severe expressions. He tried to ignore them as he walked, but by the time they stepped out into the bright sunlight, Ayumi's pointed gaze finally got to him. 

"Alright, alright...what's up with you guys?" he asked with a sigh. 

"We've been really worried, Conan--" 

"Yeah, you've been kinda sad lately--" Mitsuhiko broke in. 

"And you never talk to us any more--" Genta complained. 

"And we thought maybe something _bad_ happened to you," Ayumi finished, her pinched face showing her sincere worry. "Are you okay?" 

"Is one of the big kids picking on you?" Genta asked, hefting a fist. "If he is, I'll _pound_ him for ya!" 

"Is it something about a case?" Mitsuhiko asked, almost eagerly. "Should we investigate?" 

"No! It's none of your business!" Conan snapped--then regretted his harsh tone when all three drew back with wide eyes, almost as if they'd been reprimanded by an adult... "Sorry, you guys...I'm...uh..." _Damn...kids don't **get** "under a lot of stress"--not like this. So what **is** wrong with me? What can be wrong with Conan that's plausible if these three blab it all over the place?_ "I'm...just...sorta homesick!" he blurted, surprising himself with his honesty. Even so, it sounded inexcusably lame--he'd never complained of something like this before. 

But it worked; Ayumi immediately cooed comforting words of little-girl wisdom, while Genta and Mitsuhiko hurried to reassure him that no matter what, they would always be his friends and he didn't have to be homesick for his house in America. It was fine with him if the kids thought that "Conan Edogawa" just missed his home and family in America; it was a good cover-up for his _real_ homesickness--the longing in his heart for his old home, his old body, and his old life. 

With that, he honestly tried to cheer up and pay attention to them, pepping up his long-practiced Conan-smile and trying to keep pace with the conversation. They were heading out of the schoolyard gates when he spotted a familiar figure leaning against the wall--and when his eyes locked gazes with an identical set of dark blue, all of his progress came crashing down. 

He stopped mid-step, nearly getting run over by Genta, who complained loudly and irately. But Conan didn't hear a word his friend said; his eyes were fixed on the young man standing casually at the gate, watching him with a keen gaze and mysterious grin. Tense and guarded, he watched the youth get up from the wall and saunter over, face set in a pleasant smile that suddenly looked guileless. "Yo, Conan-kun!" Kaito Kuroba greeted without a moment's hesitation, waving cheerily. "Hey, what's up?" 

At last, the other kids noticed the object of Conan's gape. The boys eyed the newcomer suspiciously, while Ayumi gasped in startled recognition. "_Oh!_ Aren't you Shinichi-oniisan who's in love with Ran-oneesan?" 

Conan suddenly had a spluttering fit, as Kaito came to a halt before the little group. "Nope," the teen replied honestly, with a quirk in his smile. "Sorry, ojousan--wrong guy. I'm just a friend of Kudo's." He looked to be hiding a laugh; the only evidence was the humorous twinkle in his eye, which he reserved solely for Shinichi--who was currently absorbed in coughing, with Genta patting his back in concern. 

"Then...how do you know Conan?" Mitsuhiko asked, glancing at the coughing boy with a bit of wary puzzlement. 

"Oh, we go back a bit," Kaito replied smoothly, hands in his jeans pockets. "I just dropped by for a little visit, and I thought we could catch up." He turned his gaze to Conan. "How about it, squirt? Wanna go have a snack?" 

Once more in control of his voice, Conan glanced at the trio beside him, heaved an internal sigh--one that promised he would find some way to repay Kaito for this little indignity--and put on his best acting face. "Sure, Kaito-niichan, I'd love to! It's been a long time since we hung out." Catching the flabbergasted looks of his companions, he turned to them, eyes bright and without missing a beat. "You guys don't mind walking home without me, do you?" 

Genta scratched his head, baffled. "But he's a grownup!" 

"Conan, _you're_ friends with a _high schooler?_" Mitsuhiko whispered, almost overawed. 

Ayumi, however, jumped to his defense. "Conan's very mature for his age," she told them both primly, using big words she'd heard her mother say on the telephone. "I'll bet he's got _lots_ of grownup friends, just like Ran-oneesan and Heiji-oniisan--and I bet he's even friends with Shinichi-oniisan who's really famous." 

"Thanks, Ayumi-chan." _...and I'm closer friends with Shinichi than you think..._ Conan stepped away from them, standing--invisibly nervous--next to Kaito. "I'll see you guys this weekend, okay?" 

The three Young Detectives said their cheerful goodbyes, hurrying off down the sidewalk and quickly becoming absorbed in a speculative conversation about Conan and his cool older friends. 

"Well," Kaito began conversationally, once the three were gone, "they seem like a nice bunch of kids." 

All pretenses dropped, Shinichi turned to glare up at the youth. "I didn't expect you so early." 

Kaito shrugged. "I cut out of study hall to meet you here. I figured there'd be less to explain than if I had to come to the Agency." 

"And I'm alone and helpless, so there's no risk to you," Shinichi shot back. 

"Come on, Kudo." Kaito looked almost hurt. "You really think I came all this way--waving the white flag, telling you my secrets--just to kidnap you and drag you off in a gunnysack? Jeeze..." 

"What _did_ you come all this way for?" 

"I didn't want to make _your_ situation worse for you," Kaito replied, suddenly serious. 

Shinichi paused mid-retort, startled. "Then...you..." 

"Look, right in front of an elementary school isn't the best place to talk," Kaito went on. "Let's go find a place to get something to eat--people always feel more agreeable when they're eating." 

"I...yeah...but..." Shinichi took another step back, still finding himself uncomfortable--just as nervous as he'd been when Kaito sat next to him in his house on Wednesday. He didn't know him, he didn't trust him...and that would make diplomacy between them shaky at best; Kaito had the advantage in size and presence. 

If he was going to parley with his worst nemesis, he wanted to do it eye to eye--he wanted negotiation on equal terms. 

And he knew only one way to do that. 

"Alright, but I have to make a stop first," he announced. "It might take a few minutes." 

"Okay..." Kaito shrugged. "Where to?" 

"Home." 

Kaito raised an eyebrow but said nothing more. They set out down the sidewalk in the direction of the Kudo residence, both in silence. Shinichi watched Kaito carefully out of the corner of his eye, observing how the youth avoided watching _him_. Kaito stayed a good couple of feet away from him as they walked side by side, and--he noticed with some surprise--slowed his stride so that Shinichi did not have to trot to keep up. 

That was new; not even Hattori had accorded him the same consideration. 

They arrived at Professor Agasa's gate in good time, and Kaito waited until Shinichi invited him in before stepping through the entry. Shinichi headed inside, announcing his presence loudly before turning to the youth with him. 

"I have to go talk with someone for a second. Wait here, and don't touch anything." 

Brows up, Kaito shrugged. "Okay, but what's--?" 

"Just wait." 

Without further explanation, Shinichi kicked off his shoes and hurried down the hall, heading for Ai's chemicals lab. 

Ai hadn't been in school today, so he knew only one place she could be. That place was her domain, her sanctuary--the well-stocked workshop-turned-chemicals-lab that Professor Agasa had given her free rein with to discover a cure. And the only reason she would choose not to come to school was that she was working on a potential breakthrough and didn't want to quit. 

Or she was just avoiding him. Understandable, given how he'd treated her last time. She had been offended, and his half-baked apology then had been somewhat artificial. 

He tapped the door lightly, then poked his head in to glance around. There she was, hard at work on the computer in the lab, small fingers clicking away as she took endless notes, recording countless test data. 

He cleared his throat nervously, not sure how to begin. "Hey...Haibara?" 

The keyboarding stopped. She took a breath, and when she spoke, he could almost hear the wry smile in her voice. "Shinichi Kudo. I always knew someday you'd come walking back through my door. Something made it inevitable." 

He blinked, a little concerned. "Um...should I be worried because you're quoting old American movies?" 

"No." Ai spun around on the swivel chair, facing him with a decidedly _superior_ smile--although she hid it well behind her usual emotionless mask. "You should be worried about whether or not I feel generous today." 

"What? But I haven't even told you--" 

"Let's look at it logically, Kudo-kun, just as you're so fond of doing," Ai stated. "Evidence A: I said something the other night that pissed you off, and you've been mad at me ever since. Evidence B: I prefer not to deal with you when you're upset, so I've been avoiding you, which is making you guilty. Evidence C: You're clever at solving mysteries but with everything else you're as dumb as a brick, which means you haven't been working out your own problems about what happened then and you're _still_ uneasy about speaking to me." 

"Evidence...?" 

"Yes, evidence which leads me to the conclusion that you've either come to a sudden revelation and have decided to apologize to me for your obtuse behavior--which is highly improbable--or you want something from me." She quirked an eyebrow. "Given the fact that you're still a selfish child no matter what size you are, I'm inclined to think you just want something. Well, mister modern Sherlock Holmes, was my deduction satisfactory?" 

Shinichi scowled; he loathed to admit it, but she was right--all he really wanted was to ask her a favor. And he hadn't even managed a decent and sincere apology for their little dispute and his rude behavior therein. 

"By your expression, I must've guessed correctly." Ai folded her arms primly, sitting straight in the chair. "So what is it that you want, Kudo-kun?" 

"Um..." Swallowing, Shinichi faltered at her quick changes in attitude and tried to find the proper way to address his request. "I know this is gonna sound really stupid, but it's a big favor and I could really use it this time. Can I...have...?" He took one last breath, and let it all out in a rush. "Can I _please_ have just one of those temporary cure capsules?" 

His question must have been unexpected, given her startled blink. It took her a moment to formulate her reply--but when she did, her voice was just a bit exasperated. "Of course not! I already told you it's dangerous--and besides, you were an utter buffoon the last time, so I'm not about to--" 

"I'm not asking you this for nothing," he cut in, voice husky with utter sincerity. "Look, I'm...meeting someone to talk with him. And I need to be _me_. Haibara, if he's telling the truth...this might help us both. Against the Black Organization--" 

Her gaze instantly chilled. "You brought someone here who is connected to the Black Organization?" 

"That's what I'm going to find out." He held up his small hands helplessly--little boy's hands that illustrated the very core of his troubles. "I don't want to try and bargain with him like _this_. I want to face him equally...and..." 

"There's something more to this, isn't there?" Ai asked softly after a moment. "And it's not just the Black Organization--you're stronger than that, and you've faced them like this before..." Her eyes stared into his for a long time, measuring him. "What is it that scares you so, Kudo?" 

He winced. "I...I can't tell you. Yet. After this...maybe I can." 

"So you're going to risk betraying us to the Black Organization for a secret you can't even share with _me?_" Ai's frown was penetrating. "Call me selfish, but I prefer to know the reason my cover gets blown, especially if it isn't my fault." 

"I think he won't betray me." Even to himself, Shinichi's words sounded lame. 

"You _think?_" Ai was positively stunned. "You're going to risk everything just because you _think_ this person's trustworthy? I always knew you could be dense, Kudo-kun, but this...! What kind of guarantee do you have that you can trust him?" 

Shinichi shrugged helplessly, unable to explain exactly _how_ he knew. There was only one reason--only one thing he _could_ say. "Family." 

Ai's eyebrows shot to her hairline, and she stared at him for long moments. Finally, she slid off her desk chair, shaking her head. "I don't know _why_ I'm doing this," she muttered, almost angrily, as she walked over to a locked cabinet on the far wall. "It's like I'm putting my own head on the guillotine. You _owe_ me, Kudo." 

The moment he realized she was granting his request, Shinichi grinned like a fool. "Boy do I ever--you _bet_ I owe you. Big time! You call it--anything you want--and thanks, I _really_ need this--" 

She whirled to him, tiny capsule-case in hand. "_This_ could very well kill you--don't you realize that? It puts so much stress on your body...if anything were to go wrong, you'd die." 

Eyes wide, he stared at the case, then at her. "But...nothing went wrong last time..." 

"I hope you have a healthy heart, Kudo-kun," she stated grimly, walking over to face him directly. "Don't do anything that requires heavy physical exhertion for at least an hour after the change--both ways--and make sure you drink plenty of water, especially after you grow; your cells will need it because your body mass will have expanded. And eating something high in protein and carbohydrates would help a lot too..." She blinked at her own rambling, shaking her head almost in disgust. "I shouldn't even bother--you're so damned reckless. Here, Kudo--your temporary cure." 

With that, she set the capsule-case in his hand. 

He held it gingerly, as if it were made of glass, as if it were a sacred relic. This little thing was his salvation, his ticket to freedom, his short taste of real life--for twenty-four hours, he could _live_ again... 

"Haibara...thank you," he said, utterly sincere. "Thank you--I'll repay you for this, somehow--" 

"Just don't get yourself killed," she interrupted, turning back to her computer. "I still need you to watch out for the Black Organization." She pulled herself back up into the chair and resumed her typing, ignoring him. 

Behind her back, his mouth returned to a grateful smile. "Thanks," he said softly, tiptoeing out and closing the door softly behind him. 

Kaito was waiting impatiently at the door when he returned to the front hall. Shinichi pulled on his shoes and barked a perfunctory "Come on," as he led the way outside again. 

"_Now_ can we go finish our conversation?" Kaito asked, sounding slightly annoyed by the delay. 

"Not yet," Shinichi replied shortly, heading around the corner to his own house. Kaito sighed and followed, anxious to be on his way but curious as to what Kudo had planned. 

Inside, Shinichi was somewhat startled to note that someone had cleaned up his mess. _Ran,_ he thought guiltily, remembering her long absence yesterday. _She did all this. She's always looking after me, even now._ He'd have to remember to call her up and thank her...or maybe he could do it himself, if he had some extra time... 

With Kaito right behind him, Shinichi went upstairs into his room to rifle through his dresser, pulling out and looking over various garments with a critical eye. He carefully selected several pieces of clothing that met his satisfaction and set them aside, choosing a full set of attire. 

Kaito had stopped just in the doorway to wait, glancing around at the interior of the bedroom. "Hey, _nice_ computer," he commented with a low whistle, leaning in to look. "I almost forgot--Ojisan's loaded. Whoa, this is the newest model...! What's the speed on this one?" 

"That's not what we're here for," Shinichi all but snapped, turning with an armload of clothing and heading back into the hall. At the upstairs bathroom, he set the load of clothes down just inside the door and turned to his cousin, gaze sharp with warning. "I have to do something," he said firmly, "and it might take a while, but don't come inside. No matter what happens, _do not_ come in." 

"Uh...okay..." A bit skeptical, Kaito went with his usual nonchalant shrug and stepped back to lean against the wall. "I'll just...wait here, then, and whenever you're ready... Huh, why would I bother you in the john anyway?" 

Without another word, Shinichi shut and locked the door. 

Inside the silent bathroom, he stood on his old footstool to fetch the glass by the sink, pausing to regard the image of Conan Edogawa in the mirror in front of him. _Sayonara, Conan-kun...at least for twenty-four hours,_ he thought, a strangely giddy happiness building inside him. _For one whole day, I get to be free of you._

The pill case waited. Cautiously, he opened it, revealing the small, harmless-looking capsule lying within. Glass in one hand, cure in the other, he took one last breath, gathering his nerve. Closing his eyes, he steeled himself and swallowed the capsule. 

_There...it's done._ He carefully stepped down from the stool, breathing deeply and trying not to be afraid of the pain he knew would come. The anticipation of it made him tremble; keeping his hands steady, he took off his glasses, setting them gently on the countertop. He then proceeded to remove each article of clothing he wore, folding them neatly and setting them in a pile on the little stool. 

By the time he finished, he felt an unpleasant warmth blooming in his middle and beginning to spread through his limbs; the first signs that the chemicals were beginning to do their work on him--heat that would soon be followed by throbbing pain, then by pure agony, mercifully short before unconsciousness claimed him. 

He quickly became short of breath, and the room grew uncomfortably cold as his body temperature skyrocketed dangerously. Dizzy and feverish, he stumbled to lean against the wall as his eyes lost focus and the room began to tilt wildly. Shaking now, arms wrapped around himself, he sank down in the corner against the cool bathtub tile and waited for the pain to grow. 

And it did, intensifying with horrific swiftness--twinges at first, and then shooting rods of torturous fire that began in the marrow of his bones and licked rapidly outward, throbbing all the way to his skin. He gritted his teeth against the urge to cry out, gasping for air, holding fast against the burning as long as he could until blessedly cool oblivion gave him relief. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Ack, this one took a while...sorry for the wait! By the way, the "old American movie" quote is from _Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark_. Sorry, I just **had** to do that...it was too tempting! Next File is on the way ASAP, as soon as I can crank it out. I'll hurry this time, I promise! See ya then! _


	8. Cards on the Table

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 8: Cards on the Table**

Kaito yawned widely, tapping his fingers on his knee as he sat at the top of the stairs, waiting for Shinichi to finish whatever he was doing in the bathroom. He had waited uneasily outside the door, rather unnerved by the long silence within, until boredom got the better of him and he went to sit on the stairs, staring off into space as uncounted minutes passed. 

And there he sat, growing increasingly impatient from the waiting, listening for any sound from inside the bathroom. He was antsy, fidgeting; he didn't really know what was going on in there, but he had this _feeling_ that it wasn't anything good. Despite a definite urge to go bang on the door and demand what was taking him almost half an hour--and also to see if Kudo was still _alive_ in there--he stayed put, keeping his ears open. 

He suddenly perked up--at long last, there was noise. He hopped up from the stair and went to the bathroom door; within, there was water running from a sink faucet, a cabinet being opened and closed. He couldn't quite tell for sure, but it sounded like someone going through their morning bathroom routine. 

The sink cut off; he stepped back across the hall as silence fell within once more. The door clicked, unlocking, and swung open. 

Kaito gasped, too startled to move, as the figure emerged; blue eyes locked with his, long legs covered the distance between them in two strides-- 

--and in his surprise he _still_ didn't think to move, even when a fist connected solidly with his jaw and knocked him sprawling to the carpet. Stunned, he gaped up at the tall youth standing over him in complete bewilderment and shock. It wasn't _Conan_ who'd come boiling out--no, it was a teenage boy who had Conan's sharp eyes and focused expression, now glaring grimly down at him with a gaze that could pierce steel. 

"_That_ was for Tuesday night," Shinichi Kudo stated coldly, stepping back, letting Kaito stagger to his feet again. 

They stood there for a long moment, finally equals; identical sets of dark blue eyes bored into each other with matching intensity, one pair filled with distrust and resentment, the other with astonishment and disbelief. But Kaito was quickly getting over his shock, replacing his bewilderment with anger at being struck. 

"What the hell?" he demanded. "I hauled your butt out of that mess Tuesday night!" 

"You're also the one who got me _into_ it in the _first_ place," Shinichi retorted, unflinching. 

They glared for a little while longer, two indomitable spirits locked in a silent, keen-edged battle of wills. Then, surprisingly, both backed down at the same moment, as if on cue; Kaito turned away with a snort and Shinichi dropped his gaze to pull something out of his pants pocket. 

Conan's little stun-gun watch glittered in his palm; too small to fit him the way he was now, he kept it as a safeguard--even if he couldn't wear it, he could still shoot it. He checked the hour on the small timepiece before turning his attention back to Kaito. "Alright, it's three-thirty. You've got twenty-four hours, Kuroba--start talking." 

Kaito blinked, scowling and rubbing his jaw. "_Fine_. Then let's get walking. I know a good place pretty close to here--I'll buy, since you're obviously not in the best of moods--" 

"Hey! I'm not a freeloader!" Indignant, Shinichi promptly fetched his own wallet, squirreled away in his room since his "accident" so that no one would find it. That done, the two teens headed out the door and towards the shopping district, where Kaito's "good place" waited. 

As before, uncomfortable silence lingered between them--and now, definite tension. Kaito no longer held the upper hand, and Shinichi was no longer willing to give ground. _Both_ were on-guard now, and the slightest hint of a threat could spark them both into an unpleasant clash. They moved like two male tigers pacing the mutual border of their territories, both bristling and guarded; they matched stride for stride, glance for glance, and neither of them spoke at all. 

Finally, Kaito couldn't stand the quiet. "Hey, Kudo," he said curtly. 

"What?" Shinichi snapped. 

"I thought you were stuck as Conan." 

"That's none of your business." 

"Well, ex_cuse_ me! I wasn't expecting you to pop out of that bathroom and be _my_ size!" Kaito complained abrasively. "Not to mention you just _hit_ me for no reason." 

"I already told you--" 

"Yeah, yeah...Tuesday night..." Kaito scowled rather petulantly. "Fine, fair enough; I set that up and it's my fault for luring you in there." 

"Damn straight." 

"But _I_ wasn't the one who set off the alarms--" 

"Shut up!" 

This time, Kaito was hiding just a _bit_ of a sniggering grin. Shinichi glared at him as they walked, jaw set and stubborn--a glare that quickly melted Kaito's humor like ice cream on hot asphalt. 

"_Sheesh!_" Kaito burst out. "You'd think we're marching to a funeral! At _least_ stop glaring at me like that--you're making me feel guilty even though I haven't _done_ anything." 

That statement did what Kaito had intended--it stopped the glare. For a moment, Shinichi was taken aback. "'_Done anything?_' You've done plenty! Don't tell me--!" 

"I mean _today_, Kudo. Hell, since we last talked. I'm innocent as a baby, I swear." 

"Yeah, _right!_" Shinichi shot back, disbelieving. "You're probably plotting some clever scheme right this minute! I'll tell you right now I won't let you...let you...you..._what_ are _you_ laughing at?" 

Kaito had one hand over his mouth, trying mightily not to let his humor slip out. Finally, the laughter won, and he chuckled for a bit before he could reply. "_Finally!_ That's the first time you've loosened up since we met." 

"I...what...?" Blinking, Shinichi stared at him in disbelief--then in realization. "So what? I'm not a shrimp right now. What do I have to worry about?" 

"Exactly." Kaito glanced away as they walked, watching the scenery. "Listen, Kudo--I'm not here to trick you _or_ fight you...so let's just call it a truce for today and enjoy ourselves. And see if we can work out an understanding." 

Shinichi was still feeling the wariness caused by Kaito's presence--but he was also full of excited euphoria at his return to his true shape, however temporary; although he tried to hide it, his elation would eventually bubble to the surface through his mask of guarded suspicion. His cousin was extending the hand of friendship, but in his adrenaline and bad temper he was scowling and unpleasant. "I guess," he admitted, shrugging faintly. "I'm not little any more, and you're not pulling anything--I think. I suppose we can get along for now." 

"That's more like it." Kaito grinned, then offered a hand, stopping right there on the sidewalk. "Truce?" 

Shinichi hesitated, eyeing his cousin carefully...then shook the proffered hand, letting his own grin creep out. "Truce." 

Satisfied, Kaito grinned even more widely. "All right! C'mon, let's go eat." 

They set out down the sidewalk once more, entering a busier area and steering smoothly through the crowds. Virtually equal in height, their strides matched almost perfectly, and they both sauntered along with the same easy step, hands in pockets and shoulders loose. Kaito chattered entertainingly about inane things like school and sports, while Shinichi responded amiably, though a bit reservedly. 

It turned out that Kaito liked watching soccer games--not as much as magic shows, but he _did_ like the sport. He didn't participate actively in team games except for what was required in PE class, but Shinichi was--to his own surprise--_pleased_ to find out that Kaito had played soccer before and enjoyed the game. 

Shinichi found himself wondering if he and his cousin might kick a ball around sometime... 

Kaito was delighted to discover that Shinichi knew a little magic--not much, just a handful of simple playing card and rope tricks, and some basic sleight-of-hand. But it was _something_; he hadn't expected to share anything in common but a paternal bloodline and a remarkably similar appearance, so he was rather surprised to find out his cousin knew even that much. He was quick to launch into a somewhat excited discussion of the techniques Shinichi had learned, even going so far as offering to show him the next advanced steps of the simpler tricks. 

Kaito found himself wondering if he could think up a routine for a dual performance... 

They were _just_ beginning to open up when they finally reached the little restaraunt that Kaito had suggested. Kaito led the way inside, obviously familiar with the place, while Shinichi followed, glancing around and--as was his usual habit--noting every detail of the restaraunt. They were welcomed by the proprietors over the din of conversation and cooking. 

It was a nice little corner cafe, cheery and commonplace, that served homestyle Japanese meals and seemed like it was family-owned. A huge balding man with broad shoulders and a belly laugh worked over hot sizzling things on the stove and grill, while a plump, cheerful woman stirred soups and watched the oven. A pretty girl a couple years younger than the two teens waited tables and carried trays of things back and forth; she was probably the daughter of the folks behind the counter. There were a lot of people in the restaraunt, most likely because it was Friday afternoon; most of them seemed to be either regular adult customers or students stopping by for a snack on their way home. Shinichi instinctively took note of faces, positions, and the layout of the building, but other than a couple of potentially-suspicious characters there was nothing of note; the place was abuzz with chatter and kitchen noises, and no one paid the newcomers any heed. 

Kaito had chosen his meeting place well; the two of them would blend right in with the other patrons, and wouldn't be given a second glance. 

While Shinichi looked around, Kaito waved across the diner at the young waitress. "Hey, ojousan!" 

The girl finished setting down a tray and called back, smiling. "Hi, Kuroba-kun! Be with you in a second!" 

Still smiling, Kaito led the way to one of the tables, in a relatively secluded corner against the wall. "Make yourself comfortable," he sighed, slipping into a chair. "I come here fairly often--the food is absolutely great." 

Shinichi nodded. "I figured you must be a regular--that waitress knows you by name. And her mother smiled at you when you came in." 

"Heck, nothing gets past you, does it?" Kaito remarked. "How'd you know that lady cook is the waitress' mother?" 

"When there's a man and a woman behind the counter in a restaraunt that bears a family name, it's most likely a married couple or siblings that own the place," Shinichi answered with a shrug. "The waitress has some of the features of the proprietess, so I guessed she must be her daughter--or perhaps even her niece. But I figured the two behind the counter have to be married because there's no resemblance between them and yet they move around each other so closely without any reservations. My guess is that this is a family-owned restaraunt and the waitress is the daughter of those two." 

Kaito was a bit wide-eyed, blinking in astonishment. "Jeeze, you're spot-on! And you got all that just when you walked in the door? No wonder..." 

"I just keep my eyes open." Shinichi glanced at Kaito, raising his brows. "Well, _you_ scanned the room when you came in, too. Weren't you watching?" 

"Well, yeah! But..." Kaito frowned, thinking for a minute. "I guess we just look for different things. I was looking for possible dangers, escape routes, or people who were watching _me_." Kaito looked up mischiveously. "You, Mister Detective, were looking at where everyone _is_ and what they're doing now, so in case someone gets murdered here you'll be able to guess the most likely suspects by their locations, activities, and motivations." 

"How did you--?" 

"Hey, I'm a people-watcher too." Kaito shrugged. "I've watched _you_ before, so I know. We just watch people for different reasons." 

"We're both on the lookout for dangerous people," Shinichi said softly, glancing meaningfully at the front of the restaraunt. "Then I'll bet we both spotted that guy by the counter." 

Kaito followed his glance. "Who--him? Yeah." They both covertly observed the black-haired young teen sitting on a stool at the front counter, eating something that they couldn't see and watching the television above the bar. "He's in here fairly often, I guess. He's friends with the waitress--or maybe more than friends, the way they fight sometimes." He snorted humorously, then frowned again. "I know what you mean, though..." 

"I noticed it right away when I came in," Shinichi continued, elbows on the table and folded hands hiding his mouth. "There's something different about him--something dangerous." 

"Whoa...hey, I wouldn't go _that_ far," Kaito protested. "He's just a kid...I think he's just one of those tough guys--" 

"No--didn't you feel it? When we came in, we had to walk right past him. And something made my hair stand on end." 

"Yeah..." Kaito admitted reluctantly, as they both watched the boy at the counter a little longer. 

And even as they watched, the boy at the counter seemed to stiffen, leaning back and turning around to glance at them, brown eyes narrowing--and they both almost _flinched_. Those eyes looked _nothing_ like a normal youth's eyes; they were so incredibly full and yet so terribly empty, overflowing with warmth yet frozen with icy coldness, as harsh as Gin's yet as gentle as Ran Mouri's--those were eyes that had seen too much, that knew too much, had suffered pain beyond reckoning and faced Death personally... 

"Sorry for the wait, Kuroba-kun!" The sudden arrival of the waitress startled them both as she slid smoothly into place by their table--and consequently cut off their view of the youth by the counter. Shinichi blinked and Kaito jerked out of his daze, immediately switching their attention back to matters at hand as the waitress set out two cups of ice water and prepared to take their order. 

"Hey, who's your friend?" the waitress asked of Kaito, glancing between the two. "Gosh, what is he, your twin brother?" 

Shinichi hid his disbelief with a cough, while Kaito took it all in stride and grinned at her. "Nope, this is just my pal, Shinichi Kudo," he told her. "You know, the detective that was in all the newspapers a while back?" 

The waitress gasped. "Whoa, you mean the genius from Teitan High? Cool--he's famous! Nice to meet you, Kudo-kun!" 

"Hi, er, thanks," Shinichi replied awkwardly. Before his run-in with APTX 4869, he would've soaked up her admiration like a sponge--but now, he was so unused to being praised as "Shinichi Kudo, High School Detective" that he just felt shy. Hell, had he really been such a grandstanding glory hound back then...? 

"Okay then, you two celebrities, what'll it be?" the waitress asked. 

Putting the mysterious boy out of their minds, the two teens readily ordered up their favorite snacks. Kaito recommended the best eats to his cousin, who took his suggestions under advisement while requesting his meal. Both were surprised to note that they preferred some of the same foods. 

As the waitress trotted off with their order, Shinichi turned back to Kaito. "So, uh, why are you a celebrity?" 

Kaito looked discomfited for a second. "Oh...that...I, er, sorta went overboard on a trick here once, so I'm a bit notorious. And my dad _was_ a prominent magician, so a few of my acquaintances know me that way." 

"Prominent magician...?" Shinichi had only to think for a second before the name popped up. "That's right! Toichi Kuroba, the Master of Illusions--!" 

Kaito leaned back in his chair, one brow tilted cynically. "What, you thought I was talking about a _different_ Toichi Kuroba the other day?" 

"Um...guess it didn't occur to me then." 

"Heh, some famous detective..." 

Shinichi frowned at that, then reached for his glass of water. His arm swung out wildly as he moved unthinkingly, knocking the salt shaker over and nearly upsetting his water as his hand fumbled past its intended mark. He frantically tried to catch the shaker before it rolled off the table, both arms working now, but only succeeded in whacking it over the edge anyway--and sloshing his water as well. 

"_Crap_...dammit...stupid..." Shinichi muttered a short litany under his breath as he leaned down to pick up the salt shaker. Flushing, he glanced around as he mopped up the small puddle on the table with paper napkins--this time, moving much more carefully. 

Kaito watched the interesting little performance with raised eyebrows and a slight remainder of the smile he'd had before it started. "Um...spaz attack?" he ventured casually, once the shaker was righted and the mess cleaned up. 

The hint of red in Shinichi's cheeks became a definite tinge. "Something like that," he grumbled. "I wasn't _thinking_. I'm used to being Conan, but my arms are a lot _longer_ now...I misjudged the distance." 

"Really?" Kaito appeared genuinely curious. "I thought...if that happened to me I'd still be me, just...you know...smaller. And everything else would just be bigger." 

"It's a little like that," Shinichi replied, hesitant only at first. "But it's also not. Childrens' bodies have different proportions. And your _perspective_ changes, but not your mind's _perception_ of it. When I got shrunk, my brain still thought I was big for the longest time, so I was constantly missing when I reached for things and tripping over stuff I thought I could step over in one stride. I even walked into doors a couple times, forgetting I had to reach _up_ for the doorknob--and believe me, it's a _major_ pain in the ass when you can't even _reach_ the knob half the time. I can't reach countertops, bookshelves, light switches...hell, I can't use the bathroom sink without a stool, and I won't even _mention_ the trouble I had with the goddamn toilet--" He broke off his little gripe, noting Kaito's rather amused expression with a renewed flush. He wondered to himself why he was complaining in the first place--he'd never complained about _this_ to anyone before--and shrugged vaguely. "Uh...yeah, it takes a while to adjust. I had it down after a couple of days, though." 

"And now you're dealing with the reverse problem," Kaito commented sympathetically. "Big and little so abruptly--and stuck little most of the time...man, that must be the pits." 

"_You_ try it sometime," Shinichi challenged. 

"Heh...thanks, but no thanks." Kaito grinned a little. 

Shinichi chuckled briefly, then sighed, finally getting a sip of his water. "Kuroba, enough with the chitchat. We need to get to the point." 

"Hm? Oh, right..." Kaito cleared his throat, sitting up straight once more. "The whole reason I set all this up was because I had to find a way to show you the truth. I knew I couldn't just come right out and say it, no matter how much I wanted to...because you'd never accept it--not from me. I had to be able to point you to a source you _would_ listen to." 

"And you waited until I was unbalanced before you could reveal yourself," Shinichi said reproachfully. 

"Well, yeah..." Kaito shrugged guiltily. "I had to rock your boat a little so you'd _listen_ to me. Most of the time you're so all-fired sanctimonious, and so sure of yourself and the law that you'd never stop to think about what I said--you'd just get me arrested on the spot. I figured that if your happy little world was tilted just a bit, you'd slow down long enough for me to explain things..." 

"And if I shared your guilt, I couldn't go to the police," Shinichi accused. "That _was_ your backup plan, right? You go down, I go down with you for the attempted robbery at the Kyozou place?" 

Kaito actually gaped in disbelief. "_What?_ You...you can't think that's what I...! Jeeze, I _never_ even _contemplated_ that! The Kyozou mansion was for something entirely different--if you had turned me in I never would've said a word, dammit!" 

"So what _was_ all that for?" Shinichi demanded. "Why were you--?" 

"You'd never belive me, you'd never listen to me--you'd never even want to _know_ me if I didn't do _something!_" Kaito shot back, interrupting. "I _told_ you--I did it all so I could tell you the truth! Do I look stupid to you? I wasn't about to walk right up to you, Mister Self-Righteous Detective, and ask you what I'm asking you now. You wouldn't have listened!" 

"But what does me getting into that house have to do with us being related?" Shinichi demanded in a hissing tone, trying to keep his voice from being heard beyond their table. 

"_Everything_," Kaito replied, equally intense. "I told you, it was a _test_. I wanted to see if you _have_ it, like I do. The...the _gift_...you know?" 

Furious, Shinichi set his fists firmly on the table. "'The gift?' You think that's a _gift?_ Being able to break into people's houses and steal things?" 

"It's more than that..." Kaito ran a hand through his bangs in a gesture remarkably similar to Kudo's, fishing for the right words. "You've got the skills and the instincts...there's really not much difference between you and me, you know--one little shove and we could both trade places easily! The gift is...is...it's something _inside_, okay? It just _happens_. I wasn't the Kid until recently, but I pulled off my first heist without a hitch--it's just something I can _do_. And _so can you_. I just wanted to find out--" 

"You just wanted to find out if I was a potential partner in crime?" Shinichi almost growled. 

"Yes! No! Hell, that's not what I meant...!" Kaito nearly rapped his fist against the table. "Dammit...I just...I just wanted...someone... We're _family_, Kudo; whether you like it or not, you're _like me_--don't you get it?" he snapped in frustration. 

Shinichi was just about to frame a hot retort when the young waitress arrived with a large tray, bearing their food. They both hastily hid the signs of their anger as she smiled and set their dishes in front of them. When she was done, she picked up her tray and cocked an eyebrow at Kaito, almost scoldingly. "Hey, no fighting, you two--bad mood spoils good food. Shame on you, arguing on such a beautiful day! Now cheer up and eat!" With a soft laugh, the waitress continued on, going back to her duties. 

Both boys blinked at her retreating back, down at their untouched plates of food, and then, finally, at each other. 

There was a brief, somewhat baffled stare between them...before guilty smiles tugged at the corners of _both_ their mouths, necessitating hasty coughs and throat-clearings to cover up what might have been chuckles. It felt weird and unexpected, but suddenly the angry tension in the air was gone. 

"She's right, you know," Kaito said, picking up his chopsticks. "We're supposed to be on truce today, anyway. And...you're right too. I didn't handle things really well the other night--heck, for this whole thing. I can't really expect you to understand...Ojisan didn't raise you like Dad raised me. I ignored that, and I shouldn't have. Sometimes I'm pretty insensitive, I guess." 

"No, you _were_ right about that; back there on the roof...I wouldn't have believed you. I wouldn't have believed any of it, if not for my dad and that damn paper," Shinichi replied, digging into his own plate. "At least now I know the reason, but...we _are_ alike, and that...that...sort of scares me. More than I really want to admit. Sometimes even _I_ can be pretty thickheaded." 

"Ye gods, he admits a fault...dost mine ears deceive me?" Kaito shoveled a mouthful, with a teasing glance. 

Shinichi eyed him, not sure whether to be offended or laugh. He settled on ignoring the comment entirely, choosing to switch topics instead. "Kaito, tell me something. Why did you become Kid? That stuff you mentioned about your father being murdered by the Black Organization...?" 

Kaito's expression immediately sharpened. "That's right," he replied, his words precise. "I've become my father's ghost so I can take vengeance for him--I'm gonna bring them all down and make 'em pay for it, I swear. They're after a certain jewel, and I'm gonna make sure they _never_ get it--or anything else they're after." 

Shinichi's brows went up, a bit daunted by Kaito's vehemence. "So _that's_ why you've been whisking around snatching up jewels? It sounds like you had everything under control...in your own way. Why did you come to me now? You've known we're cousins for a long time, and you were told to keep it a secret...so why did you wait until now to tell me?" 

"At first...I thought it was sort of fun--I had this secret, and you had _no clue_." Kaito shrugged awkwardly. "A game against you is...interesting. The chance to tell you never really came up. And besides, like I said--you'd never believe me, and I'd get arrested... To be honest, I had planned on meeting you even _before_ I knew we're cousins. I just never quite got around to it, and then I asked Jii..." 

"But why now of all times? Why didn't you plan this sooner?" 

"Jii told me it was a secret," Kaito replied, poking at his food for a moment. "For a while, I kept it, even though I wanted to see if we could help each other out. Then I started wondering what it would be like if we weren't enemies...I know you, but I don't really _know_ you--and you know me, but you didn't know who I am. But now, we could maybe...I thought...you know...we might..." Kaito shrugged suddenly, breaking off and clearing his throat. "It wasn't until recently that I began to discover the connections between the syndicate that ordered my father's murder and the Black Organization that shrunk you." He spoke earnestly now, his tones lowering. "When I started realizing that this thing is big, _really big_, I started thinking that it might be more than even I can handle--and that's saying something." 

"You don't exactly have a low opinion of yourself, do you?" Shinichi observed, sardonic. 

Kaito paused mid-thought and gave him a quirk-browed glare. "Look who's talking." Before anything could escalate into unpleasantness, the teen thief continued his narrative. "Anyway, I've seen firsthand how good you are at catching crooks...and I'm pretty sure this is the biggest batch of crooks in the world. You're _good_, Kudo; you're smart in different ways--in ways I'm not. We give each other headaches all the time...so I thought to myself, 'Why not combine our efforts and give _them_ a headache instead?'" 

Shinichi couldn't help the small smile that sprang up at Kaito's choice of words, but he was still hesitant--still wary. He didn't _know_ the other youth yet, after all; cousin or not, he had little idea where Kaito was coming from. The only way he was familiar was through the guise of the phantom thief--Shinichi Kudo's enemy, a notorious criminal. He was only now beginning to understand his cousin as a _person_. 

He eyed Kaito carefully for a couple moments, while the other teen gulped more food and then glanced up at him curiously. At Kaito's inquisitive look, Shinichi hazarded a guess. "Hey...really, you didn't do this _only_ to beat the Black Organization or whoever...right?" 

Kaito hesitated, looking caught...but he shrugged, looking back down at his food. 

Shinichi leaned forward, still probing. "No...that's not all of it. You're just as stubborn and independent as me--it really burns you to get down and ask for help." 

"What are you getting at?" Kaito frowned, hunching his shoulders and stuffing another bite in his mouth. "So what if I just thought we should meet? We're family, so why not?" 

Shinichi suddenly had to fight back a laugh--now Kaito was the one who was uncomfortable, feeling cornered. He kept his tone level and his expression straight as he spoke. "Kuroba...you're _lonely_, aren't you?" 

Kaito's head jerked up, his face aghast for a brief moment before indignation fell like a mask. "What? Why on Earth would you think that? I'm just fine, you know, and I don't need--" 

"Nobody knows your secret, except that old man Jii, right?" Shinichi said plainly. "You're all alone--no one to talk to, no one to relate with." 

Slowly, Kaito's indignation deflated, and he was poking at his food once more. "Damn, you really _can_ see people's minds. I read people...but you _understand_ them..." 

"You haven't told anyone about what you're doing?" Shinichi asked. "Not even your family?" 

"Well, there's you..." Kaito murmured with a faint smile. "Honestly, no...nobody but Jii knows. And this one crazy chick in my class, but I've never straight-up _told_ her and I don't really know how she figured me out...but she's a witch, so...she's really weird. My mom probably guesses something's up, but she's never said anything to me...and I sure as hell can't tell Aoko--she hates Kid, and her dad's the chief inspector of our district _and_ the guy in charge of all cases relating to me..." His voice was morose at that statement, almost hopeless. 

"You mean that big blowhard Nakamori? I talked to him during the Clock Tower incident--wait, so it's _his_ daughter that--?" Shinichi's brows went up. "Wait...Aoko--you mentioned her before; wasn't she the one you were saving that rose--?" He blinked, for a moment struck by pure astonishment and irony. "Kuroba...you..." 

Reddening, Kaito promptly choked on a bite of rice as he realized where Shinichi was going--he'd just admitted his cousin's ability to see into others, and grasped that he was just about to be exposed again. 

Shinichi began to chuckle, not unkindly, as he came to the truth. "You _like_ Aoko, don't you?" 

"Whoa, it's not like that!" Kaito protested abruptly, all but flailing his arms in denial. But Shinichi had already taken the idea and run with it, his chuckles turning into real laughter. 

"This is _good_," he snorted mirthfully, keeping his voice low. "Sad, but good. Kaitou Kid in love with the police inspector's daughter...!" 

Beet-red, Kaito tried frantically to shush him. "Hey, shut up, I'm not in love with her! She's just like an annoying sister who's always following me around! I barely even _like_ her, and that's just because we grew up together! She's so bothersome and she always scolds me about everything--my grades, my magic, my behavior, my eating habits...I can't ever do anything right and she's always worrying about me for everything..." 

Shinichi was watching his tirade with one elbow on the table, chin in hand, a rather humorous, skeptical look on his face, one brow raised. 

Kaito glared at him. "It is not funny, and I am _not_ in love with Aoko. So stop that." 

Shinichi shrugged innocently. "I didn't say anything." 

"But you were _thinking_ it." 

"How would you know?" 

"I know that look." 

"Oh, you mean _this_ look?" 

"Yes, that look! Knock it off!" 

"I can't help it--methinks you protest too much." 

"Shut up! Want me to go into _your_ love life? Kaito threatened, still red-faced. "I've watched you sighing over Ran Mouri for the longest time..." 

Shinichi actually smiled broadly, throwing Kaito off-beat. "_That_ is _not_ going to work on me. I know how I feel about Ran, and I understand her feelings. If you see me 'sighing' over her, it's because I can't tell her while I'm stuck as Conan." 

The teenage thief stared at him, frankly struck by Shinichi's honesty. "You're not stuck now..." he said lamely. 

Shinichi's expression hardened. "No, I'm not, am I? But instead of spending this rare time with _her_, I'm here settling things with _you_." 

"Yeah..." Kaito gulped, managing a shaky grin. "Uh, thanks for hearing me out, by the way..." 

"Let's get back on track," Shinichi said with a sigh, returning to his food. "If you want to convince me not to turn you in...and if we want to accomplish anything against the Black Organization...we need to find out exactly how we're both involved, from when, and with whom. I don't know how much you've uncovered, so I'll tell you my story--and then you tell me yours, so we can evaluate where we stand now. Start from the very beginning--and include _everything_ you can remember. Even the smallest clue may be important." 

"I know how much you love clues," Kaito commented. "Okay, fire away; I'm listening." 

"Right." Shinichi's eyes grew distant as he began to spin his tale. "It all started on a Saturday a couple weeks after the Clock Tower case, when I took Ran to Tropical Land and spent the whole day with her..." 

Time passed; little by little their food was consumed, and the diner gradually grew quiet as many seats were vacated. Slowly, both stories were told in the same exacting precision and attention to detail, with many questions asked and answers traded. Their mutual honesty allowed them both to see the situation in all its twisted depth, how entangled they both were, and just how very bottomless a pit they were teetering over. 

Gradually, their own rivalry seemed less and less important, far overshadowed by the threat to their lives and their loved ones. In the minds of both, a strong alliance for the eventual defeat of their mutual enemy became not only a mere option, but essential; they both had facts and skills that would compliment each other in their quest for justice. 

The afternoon wore on as the crucial discussion continued... 

...and that day, in a commonplace little diner on an ordinary little street corner in a no-account little part of Tokyo, a partnership--no, a _bond_ was forged between two young men...a bond of blood and will and purpose that could shake the Black Organization to its very core. 

And, given the unstoppable determination and utter resolve of the two youths in question, perhaps even destroy it for good. 

* * * * *

"_Fish?_" Shinichi stopped right in the middle of the sidewalk to gape at his cousin. "You're afraid of _fish?_" 

Disgruntled and somewhat red-faced, Kaito grumbled and glared at him. "Yeah, now keep it down. It's not something I'm proud of, so shut your yap." 

A very apt command--Shinichi's mouth shut quickly, though his startled expression didn't leave as they continued down the sidewalk. "That's...just...sort of...pitiful." 

"Oh, you noticed that," Kaito drawled sarcastically. "It's really great when you're a grown man and you freak at the sight of a minnow--and for the life of me I can't even explain _why_." He snorted. "So, genius, what are you afraid of?" 

"Nothing." 

"Come _on_. Not even heights? Rats? Water? Pink tutus?" 

"Nope," Shinichi replied, giving Kaito an odd look. 

"Damn..." 

"If it helps, I won't blab," Shinichi offered. 

Kaito only grinned a little. "Too late--Aoko already knows, and she feels quite free to inflict severe terror on me whenever she's in a mood." 

"Damn...!" Shinichi's daunted statement accompanied raised eyebrows. 

"No kidding," Kaito responded disgustedly. 

There was silence for several moments while Shinichi processed this new data, shaking his head wonderingly. "Heh, just _fish_..." 

"Would you shut up?" 

"Y'know," Shinichi said musingly, trying to hide a sly grin. "If I really wanted to keep something away from you, all I'd have to do is drop it into a tank at the Tokyo Aquarium. The eels, or the tuna maybe--or better yet, the shark tank!" 

Kaito glared at his cousin again. "Smartass--don't even _joke_ about that. Besides, that wouldn't work--nothing could keep me away from something I _really_ wanted." 

"Hm, really?" Shinichi held up his arms, hands framing an imaginary front-page newspaper story. "'Kaitou Kid's Monocle Found In Shark's Belly; Authorities Puzzled. In other news: Local Boy's Whereabouts Unknown.'" 

This time, the goggled look on his face was not so easily hidden. Kaito gulped and quickly looked away while Shinichi grinned teasingly. 

The two youths had left the diner and darker topics of conversation behind a while ago, having finished their mutual tales in a brooding, reflective silence as they stared at their empty plates, still sitting in their corner of the nearly-empty cafe. The implications of their connection and the syndicate out to destroy them and theirs had finally struck home, fully and completely; now they both could see what they were dealing with and how their enemy operated. After long minutes of stillness they looked up, dark blue eyes meeting and concurring in a single moment of united, unflinching, steadfast resolution. 

It was silent, instant agreement. The Black Organization--and whatever branches, subdivisions, or greater syndicates it incorporated--would be taken down. 

They were solemnly quiet for quite a while after that, getting up from the table at last and paying their tabs individually. Their grave demeanors earned them another look from that weird, dark-eyed boy at the counter--who had been surreptitiously watching them now and then--and they gave him a wide berth as they passed, getting chills and glancing over their shoulders somewhat nervously as they headed for the door. Their nerves were calmed somewhat when the waitress began to complain at the dark-eyed boy, loudly and vociferously about loitering in her folks' restaraunt and getting free food--and suddenly the boy's whole manner changed from quiet, dangerous suspicion to noisy, irate squabbling as he argued right back at the girl. His attention no longer on the two youths, he morphed quite startlingly into an ordinary young teen, and that strange darkness in him was gone... 

But now the waitress, the strange boy, the diner, and the Black Organization were all far from their minds. It was getting a late, the sun almost completely gone as the lights of the city began to take over its illuminary duties. They were strolling down the sidewalk in the shopping district, having agreed to stick to lighter subjects for the purpose of keeping good cheer after their weighty conversation. Kaito hated being a "downer," and in his opinion Shinichi was pessimistic enough for the both of them, so they were back to avid discussions of ordinary current events, sports and games, favorite books, TV shows, or automobiles, and a few other mundane issues that would help keep their spirits up. 

Sometimes a bit of "business" would creep into the conversation--investigative adventures or thieving escapades--mainly because someone wanted to share an interesting story. And sometimes a few "tools" would crop up as well--Conan's cool gadgets or Kaito's magic equipment--just because they were sort of fun to _play_ with, too. The discussion was, for the most part, lighthearted and entertaining for both of them. 

In short, they were just like any ordinary pair of teenage boys sauntering down a sidewalk in the downtown area and chattering enthusiastically about their favorite subjects. 

More imporantly, they were getting to _know_ each other. 

"You're kidding--you can't ice skate?" Shinichi was once more astonished at his cousin's shortcomings. 

"Not worth a damn," Kaito replied, a bit peevish--then brightened. "But I can _ski_ like nobody's business!" 

Shinichi grinned. "Great! Then we can go shred some slopes together sometime. I haven't strapped on a snowboard in a long time--haven't done it as _myself_ since the last time my dad and I went to Colorado. I miss it." 

"I'm there," Kaito concurred, thrusting out his chest as they walked. "Just point me at the snow. Look out skiiers, here comes trouble!" 

"We'll hit the slopes in Colorado--or heck, we could just make a quick weekend of it in Hokkaido." 

"What I _really_ want to try," Kaito continued, hands folded behind his head, "is that kickass rocket-powered skateboard of yours." 

"I thought you couldn't skate," Shinichi interjected. 

"Heh, maybe I could learn to skateboard." 

"Hate to bust your bubble, but Agasa told me the skateboard won't work except for when I'm small. We're too heavy at this size--it's really just a solar-powered air turbine." 

"Darn..." 

"Hey, I'd love to learn how to hang-glide--that would be fun!" 

"I could show you sometime, if I could find Dad's spare set," Kaito said with a shrug. "It's dangerous, but there's just something about flying that I love!" 

"Me too," Shinichi admitted with a grin. "I always wanted to get my own plane someday. You'd be surprised how easy it is to get a pilot's license in America." 

"No kidding? Can you fly an airplane?" 

"Yup, several kinds. And helicopters too." 

Kaito let out a low whistle. "You lucky dog. And here I am puttering around in a dinky little hang-glider..." Suddenly, he brightened. "Hey, you think maybe your pal Professor Agasa would make me a set of engines for my glider? Then I could _really_ go!" 

Shinichi laughed nervously, trying to imagine how he would keep up with a jet-powered Kaitou Kid. "I dunno about that..." 

Kaito was grinning now. "Heh, all the cops in the world couldn't catch me then! Even _you_ couldn't match me!" 

"No way! I'll have you know my skateboard can keep pace with a car!" 

"But you're ground-bound." 

"So what?" Shinichi grumbled. "If it wasn't for your tricky gadgets, I'd've _had_ you a long time ago. Smoke screens and flash-bombs and crap like that..." 

"Hey, whaddya call those kick shoes and all that stuff your Professor made for you?" 

"Common sense." 

"Nice excuse. But I bet even _without_ my dad's equipment you _still_ couldn't catch me." 

Shinichi met Kaito's challenging gaze. "_Hah!_ Even _small_ I'd have you in handcuffs on the evening news." 

"No way. You couldn't even catch me _now_." 

"Put your money where your mouth is!" 

"Sure!" With a short chuckle, Kaito suddenly bunched to spring, grinning at his cousin. "Then catch me if you can!" 

For a moment, Shinichi gaped in astonishment as Kaito took off down the long stretch mostly-empty sidewalk--only for a moment, before he too broke into a grin and darted after him, unable to resist. 

The evening air was cool and fresh, and the sidewalk was nearly bare of people. It felt so good to cut loose and just run, just _move_--for both of them, it released long-pent tension and relieved built-up adrenaline. Especially for Shinichi, who simply reveled in the sensation of long, strong muscles and bones and tendons working in glorious youthful harmony to boost him to speeds he could never achieve as Conan. He raced after Kaito in a sort of gleeful abandon, while his cousin laughed and glanced back over his shoulder, whooping and accelerating as he saw how quickly Shinichi was catching up. 

Kaito had the advantage during the initial sprint--he'd taken off first and seemed well-suited to quick bursts of speed. But Shinichi had been a high-ranking soccer player; his lighter build and greater endurance let him creep up even with his cousin, and perhaps slowly begin to pass him... 

They were laughing together, _playing_ together, for perhaps the very first time... 

But then they were clattering to a halt at the next street corner at the end of the long sidewalk, breathless and laughing like a couple of little kids. Eyes alight with vitality and spirit, they chuckled at each other's winded faces and tousled hair as they panted away the effects of their little exercise. 

"Alright..." Kaito admitted, beginning to get his breath back. "I admit...you _might_ catch me." 

"You bet I would," Shinichi replied with a laugh. "But maybe not when I'm small." 

"Whew! Damn, I'm outta shape. I should remember you played sports," Kaito commented, wiping at his cheek. "And you hit like a pro, too. Say, where'd a nice guy like you learn to throw a punch like that, anyway?" 

Shinichi shrugged with just a _hint_ of a confident smile. "Oh, I used to take karate with Ran, before I quit to play soccer full-time." 

Kaito gaped astonishment. "Holy--! _You_ know _karate?_ Hell, I'm lucky you didn't knock me out...!" He turned away, shaking his head ruefully. "I don't know as much about you as I _thought_ I did--and I was watching you for...for...whoa..." 

"What?" Shinichi turned at Kaito's startled exclamation, eyes open for trouble. His cousin was blinking amazedly, taking a couple steps backward toward the curb. "What is it?" 

"Jeeze...look." Kaito gripped his shoulder and turned him toward the building behind him, pulling him so that they stood side by side. 

Shinichi stared at the storefront in confusion for a second, eyes roving up and down for any sign of whatever it was that had startled Kaito--until his gaze fixed on the large opaqued front windows, and the mirror-born likeness carved by street lamps in the smooth, reflective surface. 

He, too, was motionless for a moment, staring at the near-identical features of the mirror images--shoulder to shoulder, almost equal in height, with the same bright, piercing blue eyes and dark unruly hair, bangs tousled over their foreheads in nearly the same manner. Their faces were stamped plainly and distinctly by the same bloodline. Their differences were few; Kaito's features bore his father's more rugged cast, with heavier brows and a strong jawline--Shinichi's high cheekbones and softer, lighter hair showed the influence of his mother's fairer features. 

By some weird coincidence, they were almost dressed the same as well. Shinichi wore his good jeans along with his black turtleneck sweater, stylish and mature. Kaito had similar light-colored jeans, slightly ripped at one knee, and a black sweatshirt with a sports motif, his clothing choices more rakish and casual. To the observant eye, they mutually preferred simple types of dress that were both fashionable and would hold up under wear and tear. 

"I see what you mean," Shinichi murmured when the mere couple moments of staring had passed. The resemblance that had made passersby blink and stare at them--that caused even the young waitress at the diner comment on it... 

Just for a second, Kaito's hand touched his shoulder again. "Definitely family." 

Shinichi glanced over to meet his cousin's gaze with a small smile. "Definitely." 

Unbeknownst to the boys, Fate was about to broadside them--literally--with another weird coincidence.

They stood there in silence for a lengthy second, time almost standing still. Suddenly Kaito's eyes shifted slightly, widening, looking at something _beyond_ Shinichi. "Uh-oh...!" 

Shinichi didn't have time to ask before several things began to happen all at once--and Kaito was caught equally by surprise. Both boys were hauled around by the shoulder, shirtfronts grabbed as they were shoved practically back-to-back. Two female voices spoke loudly and rapidly, one angry, one plaintive. 

Kaito was faced with a rather tearful visage framed by long dark brown hair and set with wide, worried eyes. "Uh--Mouri...! Whoa, uh--!" 

"Shinichi! What are you doing here? I thought you were gone on the case! Why didn't you call me? I need your help--I can't find Conan anywhere--!" 

Shinichi found himself shoved up against Kaito by an irate young woman with dark auburn hair and fiery eyes, a little shorter than Ran but more than making up for it in temper. "Wh--what--who--?" 

"_Kaito!_ Where have you _been?_ I've been calling and calling--you took off in the middle of school without so much as a word and I want to know what you've been--!" 

Everyone's words came to a halt at roughly the same instant; there was a long moment of close, careful peering by both girls before a whole round of astonished blinks as the case of mistaken identity was abruptly revealed and the two girls spotted each other over the shoulders of the guys. Everyone stepped back with wide eyes as the females tried to assmilate the shock and the males gazed at them in surprise. All four were taken aback, the boys by the girls' sudden arrivals and the girls by the startling similarity between the two boys. 

"Aoko?" 

"_Kaito?_" 

"Shinichi...?" 

"Ran!" 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Uh-oh, the girls have arrived! ^_^ And Aoko is here! (Just for everyone who asked.) Next chapter will be interesting indeed--I wonder how Ran and Aoko will handle this new development...? It shouldn't take long, I'm already getting to work on it! Thanks for waiting so patiently, everyone! See you for the next installment!_


	9. Shuffling the Deck

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 9: Shuffling the Deck**

The silence was deafening. 

The girls continued to stare for several seconds, wide-eyed, each at the complete stranger she had accosted, then at the young man she had been intending to address. The two males wore near-identical expressions of apprehensive surprise, and the moment seemed to stretch into an eternity. 

As usual, it was Kaito who gathered the wits to speak first. "Uh...hey, Aoko...what's up?" he began with a nervous half-grin and a slight wave. 

The shorter girl blinked at him, looking past Shinichi to meet his eyes. "Kaito? But then...who's...?" 

Ran's shock was quite evident, and Shinichi's surprise was akin to deer-in-the-headlights. Her abrupt reminder about _Conan_ had made him realize he'd totally forgotten about his childish alter-ego--and this could get extremely messy if he wasn't careful. 

"Shin...Shinichi...? But...what are you...?" Ran managed to say, stepping away from Kaito with a wary glance at the other teen. 

"Ran! Um...heh, this is a surprise..." His smile appeared, somewhat exaggerated and noticeably strained. 

Still looking rather astonished, both girls pulled back a little more, glancing at each other cautiously as well. Confused, Aoko gaped at the two boys for a second more before fixing her eyes on Kaito. 

"Just...just what's going on here, Kaito?" she demanded, half bewildered and half insistent, raising a finger to point at the lookalike. "If _you're_ you, then...who's that?" 

"Oh, him?" Kaito's half-grin turned whole, though no less nervous, and he slung a companionable arm around Shinichi's neck, dragging him over in a familiar manner--and startling all three of the others. "I'd like you to meet my cousin, Shinichi Kudo. Kudo, this is my friend Aoko Nakamori. 

Shinichi--who was still rather dazed, both by Ran's arrival and Kaito's arm around his neck--gasped and glared at Kaito. "What are you _doing_, baka? Don't tell _them--!_" 

"Your _cousin?_" both girls blurted in disbelief, making the boys step back. 

Angered that Kaito was being so open with what he still considered "family secrets," Shinichi roughly shrugged his way out of his cousin's hold and shoved him in the shoulder. "Hey, I told you not to--!" 

"What do you mean, your cousin?" Aoko shrilled, stepping around Ran and at last coming to Kaito's side. "You cut class just to visit with _him?_" 

Ran recovered enough to approach her target as well. "Shinichi, I didn't know you had a cousin that looked _that_ much like you...except for Conan-kun..." 

Shinichi jumped in quickly. "Oh, well...uh, we haven't seen each other in a long time--" _--try **ever**--_ "--so when we ran into each other we thought we'd just hang out for a little while--" 

"But you didn't even call me and tell me you were back!" Ran protested, silencing his little white lie. "And now I can't find Conan-kun anywhere--I called around, and Ayumi-chan told me he left with some guy named Kaito to have a snack--" 

Aoko glared at the second youth. "So where is this 'Conan,' huh?" 

The boys shared a glance--one stumped, the other panicked. The words _**Big** trouble!_ seemed to pass between them audibly. Kaito suddenly smiled, winked at his cousin, and turned to Ran. "That'd be me--I'm Kaito Kuroba. Conan and I went out for a snack, and then we met up with Kudo, here, and when it started getting later we took him back to Professor Agasa's so Kudo and I could spend some quality time. Guys should stick with guys, and all that..." 

_Lame, lame, **lame!**_ Shinichi thought, even though he had to smile and nod along with the story. _She'll never believe that if she's--_

To Shinichi's surprise, Ran smiled in relief. "I'm so glad," she sighed, shoulders visibly relaxing. Her gaze shifted to Shinichi, and although she spoke to Kaito her eyes never left his. "Here I was all worried that Conan-kun had completely vanished," she said with a pleasant look. "I was scared that something might have happened to him. Thank you, Kuroba-san." 

_Wait...what...? Does she believe it or...oh no--_ Shinichi's eyes widened slightly as his jaw tightened. _God, she knows, she **knows**...!_

"Aw, don't mention it," Kaito said with a wave and a shrug. 

Aoko stepped up to tug on his sleeve. "So...Kaito...has anyone ever told you that your cousin looks just like you?" 

The teen thief smacked his forehead. "Sheesh, you too?" 

Aoko actually began to giggle, followed shortly by Ran, who was listening to them--ignoring Shinichi's half-panicked stare. "Well, he does," Aoko continued. 

"If you think those two look alike," Ran piped up pleasantly, stepping forward, "you should see what Shinichi and Conan-kun look like--and they're only distantly related. Must run in the family." She smiled. "Hi, my name's Ran Mouri." 

Aoko returned the smile and the greeting. "I'm Aoko Nakamori--but I think you already heard that, and this big dope already introduced himself. Nice to meet you." 

At her bow, Ran bowed as well, then elbowed Shinichi to do the same. Her eyes widened, coming to a sudden realization. "Oh! Kuroba-kun, you're the guy I saw in Shibuya--the one who looks like Shinichi!" 

Shinichi blinked, frowning. _Yeah, was that--no way, was that **him** we saw?_

Kaito grinned mischiveously, noticing Shinichi's tension and directing his attention to the other girl. "So you're the 'Ran' that Kudo keeps talking about," he said smoothly. "'Ran'...hmm...y'know, I think I have _just_ the thing..." 

He stepped up to the long-haired girl, one hand raised with a quick intricate move that produced, quite suddenly, a perfectly-shaped purple orchid from out of nowhere. "For you, my lady," he said, offering Ran the flower with a flourishing bow. She took it with a blushing thanks. 

_Why you smarmy little...!_ Shinichi stewed from within, his tension focusing into a glare at his cousin--the other knew good and well there was nothing he could say without blurting out his feelings for Ran, the slippery thief! He ever-so-discreetly stepped to Ran's other side, positioning himself between her and Kaito. 

"How did you do that?" Ran asked with almost childlike wonder, cradling the flower. 

"Oh, he thinks he's a magician," Aoko replied, elbowing the showoff with a shrug of long familiarity; she knew Kaito was just being Kaito, and her next words were laced with faint pride. "But he's pretty good at it, isn't he?" 

Ran smiled again. "That was amazing!" 

She missed Shinichi's scowl entirely, while Kaito preened from the praise and grinned at the girls. Aoko elbowed him again, then paused to think. "Hmmm...Kudo, Kudo...why does that name sound familiar...?" 

"He's the famous detective from Teitan High School," Ran replied. "He's pretty well-known around Tokyo, and he's solved lots of cases." 

Aoko set her fist in her palm. "That's right!" She smiled eagerly at Shinichi, startling him out of his funk. "You're the one my dad talked about--you're the boy who almost caught the phantom thief!" She giggled aloud, surprisingly excited. "My dad was _so_ mad; you almost beat him to the punch! But you did a much better job than him, and you actually almost got Kaitou Kid!" 

Now it was Kaito's turn to be...irritated. The boys shared another glance, and this time it was Shinichi who preened a bit. "Oh, that was nothing," he admitted with a shrug. "Kid planned things well and kept ahead of the cops, but his tricks were just too simple--easy to see through if you keep a level head and don't get caught up in the smoke and mirrors." 

_Why you arrogant little...!_ Kaito steamed silently, glaring at the teen detective as his hands fisted tightly--the other knew damn well there was nothing he could do to defend himself, the sneaky jerk! He moved around to put himself between Shinichi and Aoko, glowering all the while. 

Shinichi's grin communicated his opinion quite clearly: _Turnabout's fair play, pal._

It took both of them by surprise to realize the girls were laughing at them. Their grinning and glaring came to a halt, and their startled eyes watched Ran and Aoko lean on each other as laughter overtook them. 

"It's just incredible!" Aoko managed to giggle, wiping at her eyes. "He grins just like Kaito does!" 

Ran snickered into her hand, especially when she caught Shinichi's boggled expression. "And Shinichi glares just like that whenever he's mad!" 

"Hey, what are you laughing at?" Kaito grumped, scowling at the girls. 

"It's just really funny..." Aoko began, chuckling. 

"...because you're both..." Ran continued when Aoko's voice lost to the laughter. The girls managed a breath, then finished in unison. "..._exactly alike!_" 

While the guys glanced at each other, perplexed, the girls dissolved into giggles again. Amidst the laughter, girlish chatter began to emerge as they started to share little points of similarity between their two boys--from their appearance to their personalities, and even to the identical way their blue eyes stared in bafflement at that very moment. 

Mystified as to what was so utterly hilarious about it, Shinichi and Kaito shrugged at each other. The answer was universal, an enigma no detective could unravel, a puzzle no thief could unlock. _Women_. 

"Well," Kaito said with a rather confused cough. "At least they hit it off well." 

"Yeah..." Shinichi gave his cousin a wary glance. "How long will it last?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"I mean how long 'til we get read the riot act?" 

Kaito looked a bit worried. "Um, no clue...Ran has a pretty short fuse, doesn't she? So does Aoko. Once the giggles wear off..." 

Shinichi snapped his fingers, then clapped Kaito on the shoulder. "We better keep them in a good mood. You _do_ know what that means, don't you?" 

"Spare me...of course I do." Kaito sighed. "Miserable as it is, it'll save our hides. Let's go." 

"Go where?" Aoko asked--and the boys froze, realizing that the giggles had already stopped. 

Ever the good actor, the teenage thief pasted a happy-go-lucky smile on his face and spoke with perfect innocence. "Oh, um...anywhere! We're all here now, so maybe we could...go...do something!" 

Ran and Aoko immediately lit up. "Shopping!" 

With long practice, the boys hid their wilted frowns behind willing smiles. "Sure," they both piped brightly. 

"I don't mind at all," Ran said, stepping closer to Shinichi. "It's been so long since you've been home, and now that I know Conan's alright I think it'd be fine if we had some fun." 

"Heh...yeah!" Shinichi offered with a weak grin. _Damn, if she keeps talking about Conan... All right, Kudo, let's get it together; you call her "Ran-neechan" even once and she's gonna bust your secret wide open--not to mention put you through a wall..._

Aoko shook her finger at Kaito. "You ran off in the middle of class, buster, and I came all the way out here to drag you back home, but..." 

"But?" Kaito did his best to look absolutely blameless. 

Aoko's scolding turned to a smile. "But since you put it this way, I'll let you stay and play with your cousin a little longer." 

"All right!" Kaito kept up a wide grin for her benefit. _Dang, but this is the worst--and the best timing Aoko's ever had. We can't talk about anything "sensitive" while the girls are around, but Ran won't get on Kudo's case while Aoko and me are here--and maybe Aoko won't screech at me while we're with "company." Hell, this could be fun!_

With the girls giggling and chatting as if they were old friends, the four teens set off down the sidewalk back in the direction the boys had come--back toward the denser section of town and the shopping plazas therein. 

Ran and Aoko indeed hit it off well, sharing and getting to know each other quickly and openly. The most important thing they had in common provided their strongest link: Their two best friends were cousins--and they hadn't had a clue in all the years they'd known those silly boys! What a happy twist--and by some coincidence, the girls shared many similar qualities and experiences as well. With Shinichi, Kaito, and mutual similarities the topics of the hour, their talk was eager and friendly. 

The guys followed along behind the conversing girls, watching them, occasionally sharing a grinning glance with each other. With the arrival of the girls, something had changed; there was new tension, but it was not directed at each other. Now they protected each other's secrets, and the lingering nervousness stemmed more from what the girls might say or discover than from any wariness or hostility towards each other. 

Now they were allies, maybe even friends; their girls were with them, and neither wore any masks or disguises. They both felt oddly invincible in those moments, free and safe to be themselves for one short evening, even to share it with the two people who meant the most to them. 

Shinichi and Kaito felt like a pair of princes that night; they were on top of the world with Ran and Aoko beside them and the whole evening ahead of them. Nothing could go wrong tonight. 

* * * * *

Shop-til-you-drop was an understatement. 

The girls, pleased as punch to have the undivided attention of the two boys, went from store to store trying things on and wandering through the womens' sections without particular aim. Aoko was happy to have Kaito apparently willing to accompany her without complaint; he was being surprisingly noncombative--probably trying to avert her wrath from earler, but she didn't particularly mind. Ran was just overjoyed to have Shinichi back, even as surprising as it was; she was so excited that she wanted to go everywhere and do everything, but as far as she knew she only had this one evening. 

And, as an added bonus, the boys had actually agreed to go shopping with them. Actually _agreed_. It was as rare as a blue moon--and with the four of them together it was almost a double date. "Exciting" barely began to describe it--at least in the girls' opinions--and they were going to milk this for all it was worth. 

During the shopping trip, Aoko and Ran secretly held their own private contest to see who could get the best reactions from the guys with the clothes they were trying on. Several stops at different department stores brought out interesting responses indeed, depending on the apparel modeled; from simple blouses and stylish jeans at one point to a pair of evening gowns that neither girl really intended to buy--they just wanted to see how the boys handled the sight of them. 

Amazing how a little "What do you think?" could so completely stun two such intelligent young men. 

After _that_ one, the girls retreated to the fitting room, giggling madly as they dressed in their own clothes again. They had to call the game a tie--Shinichi and Kaito were so much alike that their blushing faces and gaping mouths were hard to judge separately; they both stuttered with equal noncoherence when asked to comment on the dresses. 

Still laughing at their own little secret, the girls thought they should give the poor guys a break--men never did handle shopping very well. So when Kaito weakly suggested they might go get something to eat, Aoko and Ran agreed with big smiles and secretive giggles. 

A pleasant evening of shopping must always be concluded properly--and that requires dinner at a casual-yet-nice restaraunt. The girls chose and agreed upon the location for the meal, then blushed themselves when the boys graciously offered their arms as they were shown to their seats. Shinichi offered to pay for the entire meal--he had his parents' credit card with him. Privately, he figured they owed him a lot more than an expensive meal for keeping secrets from him--he still felt anger and resentment when he thought of his father's evasiveness and lies, though he couldn't tell Ran why he suddenly grew silent and pensive... 

With the shopping out of the way, the menfolk were finally free to express themselves as well--and surprised the girls with the amount of chattering _they_ did over the meal. The boys took one side of the table, and the girls took the other; while Ran and Aoko continued their quiet conversation, Kaito and Shinichi shared boisterously about their favorite things, from skiing and soccer to deduction and magic--and far beyond. Their discussions were rapid and intricate, and soon even the girls quieted to just listen to them, amazed by the pace and scope. 

Ran smiled faintly as she watched the childlike expression on Shinichi's face--mirrored by Kaito--that was just so much like Conan. Her recent wonderings about the little boy she knew and the youth before her now were scrambled once again; she'd begun to think that they were the same person, but here was Shinichi, back again, large as life. And meeting Kaito...the incredible resemblance proved that it _was_ possible for cousins to look so much alike. 

The only problem was that she'd been to Agasa's house that afternoon, and there'd been no sign of Conan and she hadn't seen Shinichi or Kaito near there...had she merely missed them, all three of them...? 

"They're really something else, aren't they?" 

Aoko's voice interrupted her musings, and she looked over to find the auburn-haired girl regarding the guys with a reflective gaze touched with faint amusement. Ran smiled as well, nodding with a light laugh as she realized that she'd been staring at them just as Aoko was. 

Aoko turned to her, speaking quietly, almost conspiratorily. "It's sort of funny, isn't it? It's like putting them together has created a monster. It's incredible; they share logic puzzles like most guys share jokes. I've never seen anybody keep Kaito this engaged." 

"I know," Ran agreed. "Usually when Shinichi's excited about something, and he gets going like this, it's all I can do just to understand him. I'm amazed that there's someone who can keep up with him like this." 

"They've gotta be cousins, no doubt about it," Aoko sighed. "I never knew there was another guy like him...I always thought Kaito was sorta one of a kind." 

"But...you know...I'm glad there's a pair of them," Ran put in softly. "Shinichi's never had a friend like him at our school--all the other guys are just interested in girls and sports and stuff like that. He's so smart and so quick that the other guys really frustrate him." 

"I know what you mean--poor Kaito's starving for a friend, even though he's never bothered to get acquainted with any of the boys at our school. He says they're stupid..." Aoko sighed yet again, making Ran glance at her. "He's such a people person, but then he's such a loner...and I can't be the same kind of friend that Kudo-kun apparently is--I sure can't keep up with those two." 

Ran giggled. "They're fun to watch, though. Shinichi just lights up inside when he's this happy--I just love seeing him like that. The only time that happens is when he's on a case..." 

"...or when he's performing his toughest magic tricks," Aoko added, referring to Kaito. "And now this. This has got to be the very first time anyone's ever--jeeze, listen to them..." 

"They're almost talking in shorthand, and finishing each other's sentences," Ran observed with a half-smile. "You're right, it's a first. No wonder they're so excited about visiting each other--I don't think Shinichi's ever had this with anyone else..." 

"We should be honored they consider us commonfolk their friends, huh?" Aoko almost giggled. "I just wonder...why didn't Kaito tell me about his cousin?" 

"I've been thinking the same thing. I've known Shinichi since we were little kids, and he never mentioned anything..." 

Aoko winked slyly. "Maybe they were worried that we'd each think the _other_ guy was better, and we'd like _him_ instead." 

"Oh...!" Ran nearly burst out in giggles. "That's just wicked of you, Aoko-chan." 

"They're two of a kind, so what's to lose?" Aoko smiled playfully. "Kudo-kun seems much more polite and level-headed than Kaito--want to trade?" 

With a faint blush, Ran shook her head. "No thanks. I don't think you'd know what to do with Shinichi sometimes--he's a total Sherlock Holmes nut, and after he reads a good mystery novel he just can't stop talking about it; he runs off at any chance to go solve a mystery and prove how good he is--" 

Aoko ticked the facts off on her fingers. "Kaito is a complete magic fanatic, and after he learns a new trick he'll babble for hours, and he runs off at the drop of a hat 'cause he's a Kid fan but he also wants to prove his magic is better..." 

The girls stared at each other for a moment before they finally burst out laughing--loud enough that they earned puzzled looks from the two on the other side of the table as their conversation came to a startled halt. 

"What's so funny?" they both asked, near-identical voices, faces, and expressions united in near-identical harmony. 

Aoko waved a casual hand, even as she giggled. "Oh, nothing." 

Kaito spared her a withering glance. "With you, it's never nothing." 

"Don't worry about it," Ran seconded, trying to keep a straight face. "It's girl talk, okay?" 

Shinichi looked a bit worried. "Um, it wasn't about me, was it?" 

"Or me?" Kaito asked. 

That got another burst of laughter from the girls, while the boys began to look just a little concerned. Trying to divert the girls from any guy-bashing that might be going on, Kaito piped up quite suddenly. "Hey, Aoko, did you know that Kudo can fly helicopters and airplanes and stuff?" 

"No kidding?" Aoko chuckled. "That must be fun." 

Shinichi glanced at Kaito, wondering why the conversation was taking that kind of turn. "Just simulations, actually--I've only flown for real a few times." 

"Don't sell yourself short, Kudo." Kaito nudged his cousin playfully. "All I know is magic tricks--you can do _everything_." 

"But Kaito, you can ski and do fireworks too," Aoko protested. 

"But I can't ice skate, and I'm scared of fish..." Despite his complaining tone, Kaito's eyes remained fixed on Ran--and Shinichi realized just what his cousin was aiming for. He was just about to derail that train when Ran spoke up primly. 

"Don't put Shinichi on too high of a pedestal," she said. "I'll have you know he couldn't skate very well either, and he's utterly tone-deaf--can't sing at all, and he couldn't carry a tune in a tin bucket." 

"_Really_..." Kaito grinned unrepentantly in Shinichi's direction. 

"Hey, I can too skate!" Shinichi protested huffily. 

"You're a wizard on a skateboard," Ran corrected with a raised eyebrow, "but if memory serves, you were a total clutz on ice skates until about two years ago. Don't you remember the time I spent practically _living_ with you at the ice rink until you finally learned to stand up?" 

"So it was _her_ who taught you," Kaito snickered, earning a glare from Shinichi. "Hey, if _you_ could do it, I could learn too!" 

"No chance, Kaito--you're hopeless," Aoko teased. "Kudo-kun's just lucky to be a little smarter than you." 

"Hey! I bet I could skate better than him in three days if I really _wanted_ to!" 

Ran shook her head ruefully. "I don't think so, Kuroba-kun. It took Shinichi three days to learn to stand up and skate--but within a week he was doing all sorts of stunts and he's _much_ better than me now. Once he _understands_ something there's no stopping him from mastering it." 

"Damn..." Kaito frowned, then cocked an eyebrow slyly at his cousin. "But I guess that means there's hope for me after all. Skating may be tough--but I could do it. And hey, you know what? _I_ can actually _sing_." 

Shinichi sat back with folded arms and a pout. "At least I'm not scared of fish," he jabbed defensively. 

"Oh? So what _are_ you scared of, Kudo-kun?" Aoko asked, with a wink at Ran. 

"Nothing!" 

Kaito snorted. "I bet he's one of those intellectuals who's scared to death of _something_ but uses his superior mind power to overcome his fears." 

"I said I'm not scared of anything!" 

Ran smiled widely, then leaned over to whisper in Aoko's ear. Aoko began to giggle, followed quickly by Ran, and whispered a reply to the dark-haired girl. That left Shinichi and Kaito gaping across the table at them, mystified--and worried by the prospect of having their secrets shared by the two females. 

"I think they hit it off a little _too_ well," Shinichi commented in a whisper. 

"We've created a monster..." Kaito moaned. 

* * * * *

By the time the four teens left the restaraunt, it was getting rather late in the evening. No doubt their parents were beginning to wonder about them; they'd been having so much fun laughing and talking together, even after the food was consumed, that time had seemed to fly by like a Shinkansen train. The moon was high and the streets were beginning to empty as they exited the eating establishment, satisfied and in high spirits. 

This time, as they headed for home, their positions had changed. Kaito and Aoko strolled side by side just behind Ran and Shinichi; gentlemanly, the boys walked on the side closer to the cars, symbolic of their protective manner toward the girls. The time of boisterous, playful exchange was over, and now the four teens conversed quietly in their individual pairs, taking the opportunity to reflect on and respond to their evening together. 

Strangely, there was a lot less talking going on between the two in front; Shinichi and Ran were rather quiet, only speaking once in a while to comment on something or other that had happened during the evening. Mostly, they were content to walk beside each other, hand in hand and shoulders nearly touching, sharing silent feelings--it was wordlessly understood that this evening was somehow _special_, and neither wanted to ruin it with talk that would inevitably lead to questions, answers, demands, excuses... 

For Shinichi, holding Ran's hand wasn't anything new. When he was Conan, she pulled him along all the time when they went places. It was his leash, an emblem of his weakness--and of the child-body prison he was forced to inhabit. But he didn't regard her handhold as unpleasant; it meant he was close to her, that he mattered to her, even if it was _Conan's_ little hand she held--she cared for him and wanted to keep him close, to keep him safe from the big, hazardous world they ventured out into. 

But now the symbolism was reversed. He knew what her hand was like, but this time _his_ was the larger hand, _his_ was the hand enfolding hers--_he_ was the one shielding and supporting _her_. His hands would keep her close, keep her safe from any dangers they might meet tonight. Even if it was only for this one night, he would protect her--because he was truly _able_, for the first time in so very long. He only wished that it could last forever. 

But tomorrow Conan would return, leaving him once again in her hands... 

Aoko and Kaito were a bit more animated in their conversation; they saw each other every day, so tonight wasn't special in any way--or at least it wasn't as far as Aoko was concerned. She was just happy to have met Kaito's cousin, and to have made a new friend in Ran Mouri. She was in an unsinkably good mood, even brave enough to needle Kaito about the times that Kudo-kun had caught him off-guard during their banter in the restaraunt. It was rare that anyone was as quick on their verbal feet as Kaito Kuroba, and seeing her friend cornered into speechlessness once or twice was an uncommon treat to giggle over. Kaito didn't hesitate to leap to his own defense, but his pouting face did little to assuage his good humor--his grin was quick to resurface when they laughed together. 

After a particularly giggle-prone bit of repartee, Aoko quieted briefly to watch the two ahead of them. Following a moment of silence and a strange sigh, she leaned over to whisper to Kaito. "I'm glad I finally met him, you know--your cousin." 

"Yeah, so--" Kaito cut himself off abruptly with a flash of a scowl. _Damn, I almost said, "So am I." Zip it up, Kuroba!_ "So you think he's okay, huh?" 

"Sure, of course he is. You two get along so well, you're almost like brothers." Aoko smiled thoughtfully, gazing at Kudo's back. "I've never seen you have so much fun with anyone before...I'm surprised you don't get together more often." 

"Eh, well..." Kaito fished for a legitimate excuse--besides the fact that they'd never really met before this week and that they used to be enemies. "We're both sorta busy..." _Nice and lame, Kuroba. Busy, hell..._ He shrugged once more, helpless to explain. _But she's right. Damn, I wonder...Kudo and I, we both might be completely different people if we'd known each other all our lives. He's the first person I've ever met who's...well...anything like me. I couldn't **talk** to anyone like I talked with him tonight--I swear we both forgot all about Kaitou Kid and Conan Edogawa; we were just...guys hanging out._ He found himself smiling faintly, reflectively. _I guess this is what we missed, huh Kudo? Growing up alone like we did..._

"He really is a lot like you." Aoko's words brought his attention back to the present; she glanced at him again, her mouth quirking teasingly. "But he's _much_ more polite than you are, I can tell." 

"What? Who says I'm not polite?" Kaito huffed, drawn out of his half-pensive reverie. "I was a perfect gentleman the _whole_ time." 

"_This_ time, you mean," Aoko retorted with a giggle. "I know you way too well, you big baka. And I bet Kudo-kun is a perfect gentleman _all_ the time, not just when he's with strangers." 

_You'd be surprised, Aoko. He's as big a jerk as me--takes one to know one..._ Hiding his own grin, Kaito merely shrugged. "Whatever. Kudo's had a soft upbringing," he defended shortly. "He's a spoiled rich kid." 

"And you're _not_ spoiled?" Aoko watched the pair ahead for another moment, a shy blushing smile building on her face. "Whatever you say--but I think he's a lot braver than you." 

That _definitely_ got Kaito's attention. "_What?_ That little--!" He closed his mouth before he said something incriminating, settling instead for indignant glowering. "Whaddya mean he's 'braver?' I don't recall _him_ ever..." He noticed her wistful look and quieted, curious. 

"They make a cute couple, don't they?" she whispered, blushing faintly. 

Slightly startled by her off-topic query, Kaito blinked and regarded the pair ahead. "I guess," he replied quietly, watching them. 

Aoko's eyes dropped to the sidewalk and stayed there, even as they kept walking. Kaito looked from the couple to Aoko and back again, thinking hard--when something _clicked_ and the red on his face suddenly matched hers. 

After an instant's hesitation his hand dipped, caught hers, and held it gently but firmly. She gasped, flushing crimson as her hand tightened reflexively on his, her eyes glued to the sidewalk in shy nervousness. He watched her for a moment before turning his gaze back to the couple ahead. "_Now_ who's braver, huh?" he muttered almost inaudibly, twin spots of red high on his cheeks. 

_Something_ must have caught Kudo's attention from up ahead; the teenage detective glanced over his shoulder curiously, one eyebrow quirking even higher when he spotted the pair holding hands behind. Blushing even more, Kaito glared guiltily and stuck out his tongue, daring his cousin to comment--but Shinichi merely gave him a strangely understanding smile and faced front, declining to make any remark. 

Time, however, was still running like that Shinkansen train. Almost _too_ soon, they were approaching the street corner at which they'd go their separate ways, and both small groups grew solemnly quiet as they came to a halt under the single forlorn street lamp that marked their parting. For a few moments they just stood there in silence, and two identical blue gazes met, full of meaning. 

"Well...guess this is it," Kaito said at last. "I had a great time--hope we can do it again soon." 

"Yeah..." Shinichi agreed, something painful and longing in his eyes. "I'll be...going back tomorrow so I don't know when...if ever..." 

Trying to brighten the suddenly-dismal little foursome, Kaito grinned as he spoke. "Say, want me to come see you off?" 

"No, that's okay," Shinichi replied with a faint smile--fully aware that Ran was watching him in concern. "I'll be alright." 

_You're sure?_ Kaito's gaze seemed to ask, but the teen thief didn't say anything further on the subject. 

"I'm glad we met," Aoko said, with a secretive smile as she turned to Ran. "This was so much fun, Ran-chan--call me when Kudo-kun comes back, 'cause we've got to drag these guys out again. Or just call me any time!" 

Ran's eyes were so very sad--but she pulled her gaze away from Shinichi to brighten and reply to her new friend. "Sure thing! I'd love to. We'll get together again soon--and I'll introduce you to my friend Sonoko; I'm sure she'd like to meet you!" 

"C'mon, don't get hung up on girl-chatter again," Kaito grumbled, fidgeting at Aoko's side. "I don't want to have to explain to your dad--" 

"Oh hush, you!" Aoko scolded before turning back to Ran and Shinichi. "Bye, you two! It was nice meeting you both!" 

"See you around, Kudo." Kaito waved at Shinichi as he led Aoko away, grinning with a mischiveous wink at his cousin. 

Shinichi remained silent and almost melancholy while Ran waved a cheery goodbye to the retreating couple. When Kaito and Aoko were out of sight, she gripped Shinichi's hand again and leaned closer to him, her expression dropping to worry as she noticed the gloomy look on his face. 

"Hey...why so glum?" she asked, nudging him. "We just had a wonderful evening with Aoko-chan and Kuroba-kun...what's the matter with you?" 

He twitched out of whatever far-away world he'd been in, glancing down at her only for a moment. "Sorry....I just...miss _this_. Being...with you, I mean." He heaved a deep sigh, turning to lead her down the street, away from the direction other two had gone--heading for the Mouri Detecive Agency and the end of their evening together. 

"I miss you, too," Ran responded, barely above a whisper. "Can't you stay? Please?" 

His breath caught, his hand tightened on hers--and even without looking at him she could _feel_ pain and guilt coming off him in waves. "Ran...I...don't have much choice. But...until I have to go back..." He finally looked at her, his eyes so full of longing. "I want to be with you. Tomorrow...I don't have to leave until the afternoon so...do you want to do breakfast? And maybe lunch? I don't have much time left to spend with you..." 

Her eyes were wide with startled concern. "Goodness, Shinichi...you make it sound like you've caught something terminal! We've got the rest of our lives if we want, you know," she said with a blush, "just as soon as you finish that silly case of yours." 

Finally, his features softened into a sad, wistful smile. "Yeah...just as soon as I finish it..." _But I **don't** have that much time, Ran. Tomorrow I'll be Conan again...and the Black Organization will **still** be there, waiting for me. I may not **have** the rest of my life...hell, my life may be shorter than I want. And now Kuroba's involved, and we could **both** end up... _

Has he stopped to think about that? Shinichi wondered to himself. _He could get killed, same as me--and for almost the same reasons. But he's so carefree--we're alike but we're **not**, too--I wonder if he's even thought of **her**. Doing what he does...if someone ever found out, they'd come for her--and if he was killed, Aoko would cry just like Ran...has he thought about that...? _

He has to, there's no way he **couldn't** have--I saw how he looks at her...but...it's got to be that Poker Face he mentioned--he'll never let anyone see his grief, his pain, his fear. I could barely catch a glimpse...but maybe that's why he refuses to let anyone see he cares about her--he's so guarded, but tonight, somehow...that must have been the first time he's touched her like that--she was as red as a cherry. But he knows--if she's too close, she's a target...he **knows**, and he's trapped like me... 

He finally noticed that Ran's hand was waving in front of his face--and with a blink, he looked at her in surprise. "Huh?" 

She giggled faintly at his confusion. "You were somewhere far away again," she told him. "Are you worried something will break on your case without you?" 

"No," he sighed, shaking his head to clear it, managing another smile, this one half-genuine. "I was just thinking about tomorrow--and how I'm going to spend it with you." 

She was beautiful when she was like that--her breath of anticipation, the sweet flush on her cheeks, the sparkle in her eyes. He loved that look, so he loved to please her just so he could see her shine for him. Like when he'd promised to take her to Tropical Land--damn Gin and Vodka to Hell for picking _That Day_ to be there!--and when he'd given her the gift of a rainbow amidst the fountains... 

She seemed to walk even closer to him as they made their way down the last couple of sidewalks that led them to the Detective Agency. They were silent; this evening was far too perfect to ruin with mere inadequate words. When at last they stood at the doorway of Ran's home, he couldn't bear to let go of her hand--that would mean the evening was over, and tomorrow... 

Tomorrow this would all _end_--and his insufferable half-life as Conan Edogawa would begin again. 

But right now, with her hand in his and their eyes meeting in silent honesty, tomorrow seemed so very far away. He could just stand there with her forever, holding on to the moment--time might stand still, and tomorrow would never come... 

Ran's nerve broke first; red-cheeked, she dropped her eyes from his penetrating gaze, squeezing his hand before releasing it. "I...I guess I'll...see you tomorrow, Shinichi." 

With her eyes on her shoes, she missed the instant of agony and loss that flashed across his face when her hand slipped out of his. She was still so close--if he reached out, he could touch her, hold her and keep her from going... Swallowing hard, he managed to croak a reply. "It's a promise. Ran...I'll be here, no matter what--until I have to go..." 

"I know." She glanced up at him for a moment; whatever she saw in his eyes--longing, regret, desire, bitterness, sorrow--whatever it was, it made her flush and look away again, her hands wringing as she stepped back. "I know..." 

Somehow, he forced himself to step away as well. "Good night, Ran." 

"Good night, Shinichi." She turned to head up the stairs, leaving him alone on the sidewalk. 

For a moment, he watched her go, but then he couldn't bear it--he whirled and began to stride away, jaw clenched so as not to betray his emotions by any expression other than dull anger. He'd barely made it ten feet when her sweet voice rang out, forcing him to turn. 

"Shinichi!" She'd come back down, and was leaning out of the doorway to call to him. Her cheeks were crimson but her eyes were bright with determination. "Shinichi...tomorrow...will you keep your promise? Your _other_ promise?" 

He blinked, startled, as he remembered that telephone conversation--and the incriminating evidence it contained that had nearly exposed his little alter-ego to Ran. But that wasn't what she remembered about it--that wasn't what she wanted... His mouth twitched to a smile, unable to hide the red hue that touched his own face as he replied. "I will." 

Her face lit again--God, she was more beautiful each time she smiled like that! Her eyes shone for that moment before she disappeared into the doorway again, probably to run all the way inside; she could be so bold, and still so shy... 

But his own smile faded as soon as she was out of his sight; with a sigh, he turned to head for home once more. 

It was _over_. 

Tomorrow would merely be one last desperate, ineffective grab at his former life, a drowning man's final gasping chance to _live_--Kudo's Last Stand, as it were, hopeless and futile under the inexorable force of APTX 4869...before his Shinichi-self would suffer that hot, agonizing death once more, and Conan would be born again from his ashes. 

He wasn't running home in the rain, he wasn't confused and hurting and disoriented, and he wasn't shrunken unexpectedly into the body of a helpless child--but still, his eyes burned, his throat tightened, and his breath came short. It was sheer torture, getting a taste of his real life only to have it snatched away from him again--only to have _her_ snatched away from him again... 

Not for the first time, he cursed the drug and the men who'd inflicted it on him, hoping beyond hope that he could go to sleep tonight, wake up, and the next afternoon discover that Conan would never, _ever_ return. 

* * * * *

It was late enough to cause parental concern by the time Kaito arrived at his own home, having seen Aoko safely to her door and avoided her overbearing father's wrath. He came inside with a quiet announcement of his entrance, not wanting to wake his mother if she happened to have gone to bed early. With a yawn, he carelessly kicked off his shoes and headed into the living room, wondering if he'd need to put seed out in the feeder for his birds--or had his mother done it for him, given his lateness...? 

He was surprised to hear his mother's voice, speaking softly and urgently--but there were no strange shoes in the hall, so she had to be on the telephone in her bedroom. He proceeded in her direction, but as the words of her conversation became clear, he froze in shock. 

"...I didn't tell him anything, I swear to you. I knew he was following in Toichi's footsteps, but how could I--? ... I thought he didn't know--I didn't expect him to actually tell--! ... I understand, but he didn't tell me anything--how could I know--? ... I...I don't know what to do now--I had no idea it was that bad..." 

His mother must have heard him, or else she just happened to glance up at the door that stood ajar--her eyes met his through the small opening, and she paled sharply. "Listen, he's here. I have to go." 

She hung up without waiting for a response. "Kaito, you're back," she said, forcing a smile. "I wondered what was keeping you. Were you out with Aoko?" 

_No use hiding now._ Kaito stepped through the door, his face set and serious in a way it seldom ever was--more unsmiling than even his most stern Poker Face. "I was with my cousin. Shinichi Kudo. You might remember him...?" 

Fumiyo Kuroba gasped, covering her mouth. "Kaito...!" 

"Jii told me everything quite a while ago." Kaito gave a faint, ironic smile. "That was Ojisan on the phone, wasn't it? I bet he's pissed." 

His mother's eyes were welling with tears--it actually startled him to see that, but he refused to give way because of it. "Kaito...you don't know what you've done...!" 

"Oh yes I do," Kaito retorted, his tone harsh but strictly civil. "I got sick of secrets, Mom. I know you know what I'm talking about--I won't pretend you don't know about me being Kid. So don't _you_ pretend you don't know about any of this. You know it all--about Ojisan, about my cousin...you knew all this time. I had to corner Jii and force him to tell me...and Kudo never knew. You should have seen Kudo--_Shinichi_ when he found out. Did you know Ojisan never told him anything? Yes, of course you did--you were in on it too. He was devastated, you know--he had no idea he's been living a lie." 

The tears broke loose, tricking down his mother's cheeks. 

"I wonder if Ojisan thought about _that_--about what he was doing to his family, keeping secrets like that," Kaito continued, almost conversationally. "You haven't seen Shinichi since he was a baby, huh Mom? You should meet him now; I think you'd like him. Shinichi's a better man than me...he's lots more honest and polite, and he's a good student. He hates breaking the law. He told me his father taught him how to be a detective so he could catch criminals--murderers and thieves and people who hurt others. We were enemies because of that, you know...he could always solve my riddles, and he almost caught me several times! He's always searching for truth; he's lived his whole life believing that Ojisan would _never_ lie to him like this--and now he's found out that his name, his family, and his past are all lies." 

Fumiyo rose from the bed, stepping toward him. "But...it was to protect all of us...Kaito, they would have killed everyone...I'm always worried because you're still in danger, being Toichi's son--and even more now that--" 

"We're after the same thing Dad was," Kaito told her, his face hard and stern. "We both want to see that syndicate shut down for good. But I think...no, I _know_ we're different from Dad and Ojisan. We're going to work _together_. Listen to me, Mom--we're _friends_ now. Despite everything. We talked, and we laughed, and we had a good time tonight. He and I, we sat down man to man and we worked it out ourselves, so now we understand each other better. 'Cause you know what? We're _family_ too, and we both decided to help each other." 

Fumiyo tried to reach out to him. "Kaito...please, you _can't_--not just two boys all alone..." 

"I won't be alone, Mom," Kaito told her, his tone softening. "'Cause we're gonna be in it together. Shinichi and me. Neither of us will run and hide--not when we can rely on each other. We're gonna beat the guys who killed Dad. I promise you that." 

"Kaito...!" 

At last, he let his mother embrace him as she cried. He didn't reject her; after all, she'd been alone all these years too--she'd missed his father just as much or _more_ than he had. Plus Ojisan and his wife--they'd been her friends too, and she'd lost them as well...she had to be lonely too... 

"Mom, we'll be okay," he promised, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her--gosh, he hadn't given her a real hug in so long... "I promise _that_, too--I won't let anything happen to Shinichi, and I'll _always_ come back to you, no matter what." 

She held on to him for a long time, crying out years' worth of secrets, cares, and sorrows. He offered clumsy, boyish reassurance, a pale shadow of what his father could have given her--and that only strengthened his resolve to make those men pay for taking Toichi away from her. He was only able to promise her that he knew it would all be alright, because he'd met his cousin now and he _knew_ that the two of them could overcome anything. Because they were together now, just like him and his mother--they were as one, a united front, joined into a single force. 

They were a _family_. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Eep, sorry this took so long, everybody! I'll try to keep the chapter turnover to a week or less, as best I can. No guarantees, given my erratic schedule... -_- ...but I'll try! Next File, things are gonna start heating up. There's only one truth...and is Ran about to find out...?_


	10. Hide and Seek

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

_One more day, one more time,  
One more sunset, baby, I'd be satisfied.  
But then again, I know what it would do:  
Leave me wishing still for one more day with you._  
--Diamond Rio, "One More Day"

  
**File 10: Hide and Seek**

It took Ran a muzzy moment of half-awareness to realize that the incessant ringing was not, in fact, coming from her alarm clock--it came from the telephone. Given the snoring she could hear, her father was going to sleep right through it, even though it might have been a case that would put food on the table. Even though it was a Saturday and she'd rather sleep in past eight o'clock... 

Yawning and stumbling, she floundered out of bed and shuffled to her door, sleepy and irritated. _Why isn't Conan-kun getting the phone? He's usually up this early all the time--no, wait, he's at Professor Agasa's; he was asleep already by the time I called last night and the Professor will send him home today..._

The answering machine was already running through its little babble when she made it to the phone, picking up the handset and hitting the button that shut off the pre-recorded voice. "Hello, Mouri Detective Agency, how can I--?" she yawned, rubbing her eyes. 

"Hey Ran, are you awake yet?" 

"_Shinichi?_" The cobwebs cleared with a rush of warmth and comprehension. 

"Who else would be calling you this early on a Saturday?" came the familiar voice, touched with affectionate humor. "I still want to see you today. How soon can you be ready?" 

Gaping, she struggled to organize her thoughts. "Um...an hour--no, thirty minutes. Give me thirty minutes. But...what should I wear?" 

She could hear his smile when he spoke. "Anything you want. Today's for you." 

No doubt _he_ could hear her blush. "O-okay," she stuttered, gripping the handset. "I'll hurry." 

"You've got thirty minutes, Ran," he responded teasingly. "Don't be late--I'll be there right on time, and you're coming however I find you!" 

"Shinichi--!" 

"See you soon!" 

With that, he was gone, leaving her to set the phone back in the cradle, dazed and flushing. For a moment she just stood there, collecting her thoughts--and then she whirled to rush back into her room, diving madly into her closet. She rifled through several sets of her nicest clothes, tossing various garments aside when they didn't meet her approval. When she finally settled on an outfit, she grabbed up everything she'd need and sprinted to the bathroom for a quick shower. 

_Coming however he finds me, huh?_ she thought playfully, scrubbing down at high speed. _I wonder what would happen if I took him up on his little "threat" and he found me as I am now. **That** would catch him off-guard._ Stirred by her daring thoughts, her insides fluttered warmly. _The silly baka would probably just pass out...but if he didn't, we wouldn't go anywhere for a while..._

She gasped at her own musings, flushing pink from head to toe. _Ack! No! **Bad** Ran!_ she scolded herself, utterly mortified. _When did I start thinking such naughty thoughts? I was raised better!_ She frowned guiltily as she stepped out of the shower and began drying off, trying to hold back giggles from the half of her that was completely unashamed. _Gosh, whoever said "absence makes the heart grow fonder" really had **no** idea..._

Twenty minutes left. She dried and dressed quickly, getting to work on her long tresses with brush and hair-dryer in a concerted effort to tame the remainder of bed-head and newer post-shower tangles. When that was done, she checked her watch again and hurried back to getting ready. 

Ten minutes left. With her hair mostly dry, she got down to the rest of the necessities of feminine preparation, seeing to her face and the set of her bangs and hoping that everything came out right. Her hands were shaking so much; she couldn't believe how nervous and excited she was--it was only Shinichi for crying out loud! 

_**Only** Shinichi?_ that shameless part of her reproached. _Only the one I've been waiting for so long...only my everything..._

Still blushing every time she thought of his imminent arrival, Ran put the finishing touches on her appearance and dashed out of the bathroom at last, heading back to her room to gather her wits and make sure she didn't forget anything. 

She was wearing her white sundress, plain and pretty, something she thought was casual enough for a weekend but dressy enough for a "date." She put on a simple little gold necklace to accent it, something her mother had given her, and to top off the ensemble she pulled on her pink jacket. Her room looked like a tornado hit it and she'd left her towel and pajamas in the bathroom, but there was no more time to worry about it--the living room clock said zero minutes left, even though she was still hunting for her shoes. 

Just as promptly as she'd expected, there was a knock on the door. 

"Coming, coming!" Still barefoot, she flew to open the door, her face alight. 

Shinichi Kudo stood smiling on the landing, dressed just as nice-yet-casually as she was with his khaki slacks, blue shirt, and green jacket. "Somehow I knew you'd still be getting ready," he said by way of greeting, not at all displeased. 

"I just can't find my shoes!" she protested, inviting him in before dashing off to her room to search again. "And my purse is missing too!" she called out. 

"You're starting to take after your dad, Ran." 

"_Hey!_" Her indignant voice rang out of her bedroom, somehow muffled. 

With a shake of his head, Shinichi stepped through the living room, reached under the couch, and brought out a pair of sandals that had been forgotten there a couple days before. Of _course_ he knew where they were--he noticed everything anyway, plus as Conan he'd seen her leave them there. 

He leaned against the frame of her door and held out the shoes, grinning cheekily. "Looking for these?" 

Ran popped up from her under-the-bed search, eyes lighting. "Oh! Thank you!" She snatched them from his grip and put them on, blushing under his gaze. "Now I just need to find my purse." 

Shinichi chuckled, once more daring to use Conan's knowledge of the house and its inhabitants. "I'd have to guess that your purse is down in the office, probably by your dad's desk where you left it when you cleaned up after him last night." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Now how would you know that?" 

"I know _you_," he responded with a secretive grin and a wink. "Want to go see?" 

"I'll have to take your word for it," she replied, leading the way out the door and down the flight of steps. 

He was right--as usual. Ran had to laugh ruefully when she found her purse on her father's desk, just where Shinichi had suggested. "Nothing ever gets past you, darn it," she pretended to grumble, leaving a brief note for her father telling him she was going out and that he could heat up something for breakfast on his own. 

"Ready to go now?" Shinichi asked, waiting in the doorway as she finished. 

"You bet!" Eyes bright, she hurried to his side, shutting the door firmly behind her and blushing when he reached out to take her hand. 

"You look...really nice," he said hesitantly, leading her down to the sidewalk, his own cheeks touched with faint scarlet. "Sorry I dragged you out so early, and on such short notice." 

"Oh...don't worry about that!" she quickly replied, waving her free hand dismissively. "I'm just glad you're back, even if it's just for a little while. Let's not fret about that, though--let's just treasure the time we have!" 

She stepped nearer to him as they walked; in one daring moment she changed her grip from a simple handhold to a more intimate weaving of her fingers through his. She heard his intake of breath, felt his hand tighten on hers; she flushed a little as his smile grew soft and his gaze tender. 

"Yeah," he replied, near a whisper. "You're right, let's enjoy this morning. There may never be another one like it." 

That morning they walked closer than they ever had before, hand in hand, to spend what few precious hours they had left in each other's company. It was clear that both knew their time was short--and both knew that time was best spent together. 

* * * * *

That morning, Fumiyo Kuroba was so reserved and silent that Kaito began to worry if his little talk last night had upset her more than he'd thought. He'd been a bit...sharp, he knew, but that had stemmed from a long period of resentment toward his uncle--who, he felt, had broken up the family and caused no end of pain to his mother, his cousin, himself...even to his father, though Toichi was ten years gone. His resentment had manifested itself the moment he'd seen the utter loss in Shinichi's eyes three days ago...and it had continued to grow since then. 

He sat on the front step of his house, glum and introspective--though several of his doves clustered around him, cooing softly and attempting to cheer him up. Such pensiveness usually didn't suit him, but the events of the last week had _changed_ things--he hoped it was for the better, but one never knew. He and Shinichi could never go back to the way things were--thief and detective in a dangerous dance of wits and skill, nothing more than rivals. 

Well, they were more _now_; he and his cousin had reached a new and unpredicted understanding. Kaito had gone into this venture expecting some kind of ally...but he'd never anticipated that he and Shinichi could be such _friends_. 

_At least I **hope** that's what I can call it,_ he mused to himself. _I wonder what **he** thinks. About us...me and him, being cousins. If I asked, would he say we're friends...?_

Petting the nearest bird perched on his knee, he shook his head with a rueful snort. _Probably not. It's too soon...feh, we've only really **known** each other for a couple of days, and a few hours' worth of camaraderie doesn't make up for years' worth of time spent apart. But...he seemed to enjoy hanging out yesterday. And the girls had fun, too. Maybe... _

Maybe I'm just grasping at straws. With a sigh, he shook his head again, rising to his feet and sending white pidgeons fluttering about. _This isn't like me at all..._

His mother was so withdrawn this morning that he couldn't bear to stay in the house--the main reason he was sitting out here moping. After what had happened last night, she had become so depressed and anxious--worried for him, no doubt, and reminded painfully of the past by the things dredged up in Ojisan's call and his own harsh words. She seemed to grow sadder and sadder each time she looked at him; it happened occasionally, usually near her wedding anniversary or the day of Toichi's death, and he felt guilty for it...but he couldn't help his resemblance to his father, and he couldn't help that he reminded her of him. 

When such times came, all he could do was weather them and wait for her to return to her cheerful self--the way she always did. 

But...it was different this time; darker, more painful, and she'd cried for so long last night... Another thing to blame Ojisan for--calling her up and probably chewing her out for not preventing her son's activities as Kaitou Kid. 

Suddenly agitated, Kaito shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stepped off the porch, heading for the street--he needed a walk to clear his head, and he needed to give his mother space. Face set in an uncharacteristic scowl, his strides were quick and long as he picked a random direction and went, not caring where he'd end up at this point. His thoughts turned to his uncle, and what he'd like to say to the man when they finally met. 

First, perhaps he'd say "Hello." Just so everyone wouldn't think him a complete boor. 

Then he'd demand to know why Ojisan had left, why he'd told so many lies--even to his own son, leaving Shinichi victim to the heavy blow of suddenly learning the long-hidden truth. Kaito had been _right there_, right beside him on that day, and it didn't matter that those shocked, distressed eyes had been set in the face of a small child--that was still Shinichi, still his cousin, and his feelings were just as real as Kaito's own. Despite his ironic laughter that day long before, Kaito had been stunned to learn the truth as well... 

Oh, he had many things he wanted to say to his uncle; as he strode aimlessly through the suburban streets, he made a mental list--a very careful and detailed mental list, just as if he were planning a heist. When he finally met his uncle, the man was going to listen to him, and listen good. 

Yes, he had a lot to say to Ojisan, indeed he did... 

* * * * *

Fumiyo wasn't sure exactly when Kaito left; he'd been concerned and moody all morning in response to her sadness, no doubt believing it to be his own fault--and she felt worse now for abandoning her son like this, just because she was upset about... 

About someone she hadn't heard from in ten years, other than the occasional chunks of money that showed up in her husband's still-active savings account. Yuusaku Kudo, Toichi's younger brother, more than fifteen years estranged from the Kuroba family. 

He'd called her last night, his voice hard and stern in that "I'm-angry-but-I'm-not-going-to-show-it" way of his, demanding to know why she'd let her son carry on Toichi's foolishness. Why she hadn't stopped him from endangering himself and the rest of the family. Why she'd told him about Shinchi... 

But she hadn't. She hadn't told Kaito _anything_--she'd kept her promise. But Kaito was smart and cunning, and he'd figured it all out on his own. She hadn't stopped him because...he was so much like Toichi, and she knew no matter what she said or did he would _never_ stop until her husband was avenged. 

So much like Toichi...and nothing like Yuusaku. 

Toichi and Yuusaku... Being brothers, they were so much alike--but they had been so very _different_ as well. Toichi was proud and decisive and outgoing, where Yuusaku was quiet and evasive and reserved. Toichi had been blunt and open, and though he loved the secrets and tricks of a phantom thief he never believed in telling falsehoods any more than was absolutely necessary, especially to people who _mattered_ to him--most importantly, his family. 

Perhaps telling tall tales helped in writing--but thank God for Yukiko-chan, or who knows what kind of person Yuusaku would be now? He solved murders for the police, but helped cover up his own _brother's_ murder to prevent anyone from discovering his secrets. He was nice enough, but he had always been rather self-serving and ambiguous, lying to anyone without hesitation or remorse... 

How then had Yuusaku produced a son who believed so strongly in the truth? 

She'd heard of Shinichi Kudo, even read about him in the newspapers, but that was different than hearing about the _person_ that he was. She and Kaito had talked for a long time last night, once her storm of tears had come to an end; he had shared with her what he'd learned of his cousin--told her of the honest, gentle, compassionate, dedicated young man the little baby she'd known had become. Of course Shinichi had faults--who didn't? He was prideful--probably just as boastful as Kaito--and a little spoiled, but somehow he hadn't inherited many of Yuusaku's worst shortcomings. 

Shinichi sounded more like his uncle than his father--especially to hear Kaito tell it. Such a sincere boy, so devastated when he found out his father had lied to him for so long--as if he couldn't believe such a thing of Yuusaku... 

_Poor Shin-chan,_ she thought, as she heard the doorbell ring and rose to answer it. _I feel so sorry for him, not knowing anything. I knew somehow...I knew it was wrong to keep this from the boys. I just wish Yuusaku could see..._

All her thoughts fled in a rush when she opened the front door. Memories burst through her mind as she gasped aloud, tears forming instantly in her eyes as she reached out to the person standing on her doorstep. "Yukiko-chan!" 

"Fumiyo-chan." Yukiko Kudo managed a smile, her own eyes filling as she moved to embrace her long-lost friend. It had been ten years since they had last spoken--and more than that since they had shared any time together. But best friends don't let go so easily--and when reunited, old bonds prove strong indeed. 

As the women cried softly on each others' shoulders for a few minutes, Yuusaku Kudo stood back and waited for the storm to abate. His face was set with purpose and his eyes were dark and hard; he had matters to discuss with Mrs. Kuroba before he confronted his son and his nephew at last. He fully intended to stop Kaitou Kid once and for all. 

He was going to put an end to the dangers that threatened them--and if it took removing Kaito's "toys" and taking Shinichi away to America, then so be it. 

He would do anything to protect his family, even if it meant they might hate him for the rest of their lives... 

* * * * *

Ran and Shinichi had a wonderful morning, from breakfast at a fancy restauraunt to gaming in the arcade, from one _last_ little shopping trip to a matinee movie, from lunch at a quaint, casual little cafe to their after-meal stroll to Beika Park... 

They spent their time just enjoying each other's company, not worrying about when it had to end or what might happen tomorrow. Their "date" was no place for such cares; they only needed to think about each other--her hand in his, her smile at him, his eyes only for her. Those short/long hours on that beautiful Saturday morning became all that mattered, and they simply enjoyed themselves without fretting over the details. 

But after lunch, Shinichi began to glance at his sports watch more often, began to grow more pensive, began to make Ran notice his uneasiness. The walk to the park had been her suggestion; after so many exciting activities before lunch, something quiet and calming would do them good. Shinichi agreed, wanting a place to gather his thoughts, to say what he needed to say and do what he needed to do before his time was up. 

Still hand-in-hand, they strolled along the bike path through the pleasant, sunny little park. Across the way, past the cherry trees, there were children having fun on the playground, while some families picnicked the afternoon away on such a fine day. The path he'd chosen to lead Ran on was one of the more remote, running through the shadier part of the park and seldom visited by anyone--except couples with a particular aim in mind, Shinichi remembered with some embarassment. 

There was a stretch of water running through one corner of the park--the kids he hung out with called it "the river" but it was really little more than a glorified drainage ditch, a tiny canal with grass growning along the sides so it looked somewhat less artificial. Still, it was pleasant enough to stop on the little wooden footbridge over the water, leaning against the rail with Ran at his side--and it made his insides warm when she rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh; he could just make out her blush from the corner of his eye, but if she was brave enough to do it, then he was brave enough to stay put. 

They stayed like that for several minutes, just leaning on the bridge railing and watching the water flow serenely past, enjoying each other's quiet presence and warm proximity. Standing in the midst of a perfect moment in time, they treasured up each nuance of it in their hearts, saving this crystal memory exactly as it was, to remember this serene, tender interlude for the rest of their lives. 

A green maple leaf floated by beneath them, poised on the translucent skin of the shade-dappled water. It was like time--like this instant in their lives, a poignant moment passing smoothly into history's eclipse, never to come again. New leaves could fall, new water could flow, but that which passed could never return. Time, both healer and destroyer... 

Shinichi's involuntary sigh broke the silence as the little leaf drifted out of sight and the moment was gone. Ran stirred in response, as if awakening from a daydream, lifting her head from his shoulder to regard him thoughtfully, sadly. 

"I really wish you didn't have to go," she said softly. 

"Believe me, there's nothing I want more than to stay like this. I don't relish going back to..." Realizing he'd spoken without thought, Shinichi frowned, staring down at the water and going over his last words carefully. Once he was sure he'd said nothing too incriminating, he sighed and continued. "But I have to leave." 

Even though she'd _known_ what his answer would be, her face still fell; she too turned her eyes to the ever-flowing water...because his brief, pained expression spoke more eloquently than words. 

"But...why?" she asked at length, barely above a whisper. "Why is this case so much more important than...everything and everyone in your life?" 

He winced visibly, looking down. "Ran, I...wish I could tell you..." 

"Can't you?" 

"No!" His reply came more abruptly than he intended. "I'm sorry. I mean...I _wish_ I could but...it's not about me. Ran, this..." He chewed his lip for a moment, uncertain, agonizing briefly over just _how_ he could plausibly explain it. "Don't say anything to anyone, but...this case I'm working on...it's very big, and very secret--it could affect everyone, and that's why I can't say much about it...and I can't stay around here much either. It could be dangerous...for you and everyone who's important to me--so it's not that I _want_ to leave you alone, it's just..." 

Her eyes were wide, surprised and worried for him. "Shinichi...! If it's that risky, why are you even mixed up in it? You're just a high school student--why do the police need you?" 

"Because...because..." His hand tightened on the rail. "I'm _involved_, that's why...I really don't have much of a choice--it's not up to me, it's... Ran, this goes way beyond the police, believe me--and I _don't_ want to be a part of it but I _have_ to. And besides that...I can solve this case--I _know_ it. I keep getting closer and closer..." 

"Top secret cases," Ran commented ruefully, after a moment of silence between them, "and bad guys that not even the Great Detective Shinichi Kudo can apprehend without so much work...it must be an exciting mystery." 

"_Hell_ no..." Shinichi looked uncomfortable and rather disgusted. "It's been the most absolutely miserable...difficult...confusing, irritating, _frustrating_ case I've ever worked on. Sometimes it seems I'm getting nowhere, but then...something breaks and I think, 'This could be it. This could be what I've been waiting for.' But...so often it never is." 

Ran's gaze was sympathetic. "Whoever caused this case--they must be pretty awful if they can stump even _you_ for this long." 

"'This long?' It's been _too_ long..." His shoulders slumped. "God, I...I really just want it to be _over_..." 

Sensing his sadness, his weariness, Ran leaned closer to rest her head on his shoulder again. "Me too," she admitted softly. "If it's hurting you this much...Shinichi, you should stop; let the police or whoever deal with it--you don't have to solve _every_ case...!" 

"_I can't_." His voice cracked, but he kept talking. "Ran, I don't have a choice. Please understand, if it were up to me I'd tell them all to go to hell, but...I can't..." 

"Who...who's making you--?" 

"Look, you have to keep this a secret," he said suddenly, his voice roughened but almost pleading. "I'm already pushing it just saying this much. You can't mention anything to your parents, or friends--I'm away on a case, and that's it. And...please, don't tell anyone I was here, either--if the guys I'm trying to catch find out, they might--" He cut himself off, swallowing hard, realizing he was coming far too close to saying too much. "Ran...I'm really sorry. When this is all over I promise..." 

"It's okay," she whispered, hiding her hurt behind compassion. "I understand. I just wish you weren't all alone. When you call, sometimes you sound so lonely." 

He almost managed a tiny smile. "Well, that's why I call...when I get lonely and I can't stand it any more, I just like to hear your voice..." 

She blushed a little, laughing shortly. "If you can't stay, maybe I could go with you." 

"Ran..." The pain behind his little smile only seemed to grow. "I wish you could. But it's out of my hands...at least now I've got some help, if Kuroba lives up to his word--" His voice cut off with a half-choke, his eyes widening. _Aw shit, I just blew it!_

"Help?" Ran blinked curiously. "Your cousin's going to help you solve this case? That's great!" She didn't appear to suspect anything, nor did she seem angry. "With two brains like yours on the job, it should get much easier." 

"Brains...?" _At least she isn't suspicious..._ "I--I guess...he's no dimwit, that's for sure..." 

Ran actually smiled, surprising him out of his nervous freeze. "I'm glad to hear that, actually. I'm glad you won't always be alone." 

"Ran, I..." _She's right...I've been all by myself--Hattori's a good friend and a great detective, but...so often he's a pain in the rear and he almost blows my cover. Kaito, on the other hand--he understands everything and he really wants to help...and I can help him..._ "Thanks. I'm...glad he's gonna help, too. But please don't--" 

"Don't say anything to anyone, I know." She sighed, almost ruefully. "I'm the daughter of a private detective, you know--I _do_ know how to keep secrets. Shinichi...you really can tell me anything, just like I promised--I meant it that day and I still do." 

"Ran..." He caught his breath at the sincere caring in her eyes. She meant it--she would stand by him, believe in him...and he was being so cruel to her by lying and hiding and... 

"Last night, I wonder if it was Fate," she said after a few moments of watching the stream, her tone brightening as she spoke. "You know--us meeting on the street like that, with you and Kuroba-kun together, and Aoko-chan showing up right at the same time. It's almost like someone arranged it." 

_Fate, right--somebody up there loves me, or hates me..._ Shinichi mused to himself before replying. "I think that was just a happy coincidence. Kuroba...Kaito and I weren't really expecting to run into anyone." 

"I'm glad we did, though," she said. "It was nice to finally meet your cousin. I'm happy to know he's the guy who's going to help you--he seems like just what you need. I'm just surprised you haven't introduced us before. I've never..." She smiled a little, feeling awkward for mentioning it. "I've never seen you really talk to anybody like that, not even me. Aoko-chan and I--we were both amazed to watch you two." 

Shinichi was rather surprised that Ran had picked up on that. _She's more right than she knows; I've **never** been able to have a conversation like that with anyone else--not her, not any of the guys in high school..._ "Well, I guess we just...think alike," he admitted. "We have different opinions on things, but we're...we're family, and...we can understand each other." 

"You're such good friends," Ran said. "Almost like me and Sonoko--_buddy_ friends, who can share everything, from gossip about boys to secrets and fears...um, well, gossip about _girls_, in your case..." 

Shinichi actually snorted, a short chuckle of acknowledgement. "Kaito's a pretty fun guy, and he's got a great sense of humor...he doesn't mind talking about the same things I like to talk about, and I don't mind his favorite topics so much either. I don't know why, but we...we get along." He looked surprised by his own words. _Yeah...we **are** friends, aren't we? I never thought it'd be possible, not with who he is, and who I am...but... It could be true...I wonder what he thinks...?_

Ran eyed him for a moment, her mouth curving into a playful smile. "You and Kuroba-kun both babble at the same speed, you know. You were going so fast last night that Aoko-chan and I almost felt like you two were speaking a different language." Her gaze quickly turned wistful. "I have to admit I'm jealous of him. I wish I could keep up with you like he does. I'm...I'm just not as smart as you are, Shinichi...I can't solve cases, and I have to work so hard in school...and even though I _try_ I just can't be as bright as you. I guess I'm sort of a lead weight compared to you, huh?" 

He stared at her, taken aback by her honesty. "Hey, what are you saying? You are _not_ stupid, Ran!" He frowned, standing up from the railing to face her. "I sure as hell don't think of you like that! How can you say that? It doesn't matter what your test scores are or how fast you can solve a case, I still--Ran, _you're_ more important than...than IQ or grade point average..." 

Her gentle smile made him run to a halt. "Be honest," she murmured. "You're way above most people, Shinichi, and you know it. The rest of us must seem kind of dull compared to Kuroba-kun." 

Struck by her frankness, he scowled, turning away to lean on the railing once more, this time somewhat further away from her. "Well, _fine_, if you want to be so direct," he said roughly, flicking a twig off the rail and watching it drop to the water. "_Yes_. Kaito can follow me through an explanation and I don't have to repeat things to him; he remembers what I tell him and he comprehends everything that I say so I don't have to stop and explain anything...if that's what you mean, then yeah--he's easy for me to talk to that way." 

"I see..." She stared at the water, her expression a strange mix of unhappy and glad. 

"When I talk to other people I have to pause and clarify, or they miss something and I have to repeat myself, or they don't understand certain facts pertaining to the subject matter of the conversation so I have to educate them." His jaw was tight as he spoke; he hated himself for hurting her, even though he made himself continue with brutal candor--she'd forced the point, she'd _asked_ him to be honest. "There's no trick to school--it's just easy for me because I can remember everything I see and hear and read. It's true that I don't have many other friends, but that's because I get frustrated by guys who always seem pretty dim. But I don't see other people as stupid or brainless, just...a little slow." 

When she didn't reply, he winced and mentally cursed himself, hurrying to come up with _something_ to say that would make her feel better. "But I don't think _you're_ dumb--I'm a bigger idiot than anyone and you shouldn't listen to me when my mouth runs off and I'm only teasing--I like you just how you are, Ran; you're great in school, you're studious and hardworking, you've got _twice_ the guts I do and I know for a fact you're smarter than your dad is--you could be a _kickass_ lawyer someday, or even a cop, 'cause you're as sharp as your mom and you don't take shit from _anybody_...hell, do you think I'd like you as much as I do if I thought you were witless...?" 

He finally noticed her smile--a soft knowing smile that made his stumblings come to a halt. "Thank you for telling me," she said, facing him with that same smile. "I understand." 

"You...you do...?" He blinked, not really sure what she'd gotten out of that...but at least she was smiling now. "Ran, I just...I don't want you to think I don't..." 

"It's okay, Shinichi--really, it's okay." She came close to him once more, setting her elbow next to his on the rail and smiling at him ever more brightly. "I really do understand--I have for a long time, actually, but it just felt good to hear you say it." She blushed a little as she spoke, her eyes twinkling with sudden shy merriment. "I like you just the way you are, too; your brains and your mysteries and your Holmes-obsession--everything. I'm _glad_ you're special, or else you just wouldn't be my Shinichi." 

"Ran..." He took a breath, looking into her eyes. His voice wouldn't work after that--the raw affection in her gaze made his throat close up. 

Her face was turning crimson, but her eyes never left his. "Shinichi...you're very special to me. Even if you _weren't_ the smartest guy in Tokyo, I'd still..." 

They stood up from the railing as one, facing each other with flushed cheeks and intense gazes; the fact that their time together had to end sometime soon was far away from their consciousness--at that moment, the only thing they saw was each other. 

"Ran...I..." For an awkward moment he didn't think his words could say enough, but he had to try--he had to tell her somehow. "I don't care about skills or brains or any of that other stuff...and I sure don't know what I'd do without you. I like you as much as I do because you're _you_..." 

Her shyly happy face was enough of an answer for him; they faced each other on the bridge with equal blushes, near enough to feel the closeness, to feel the change in the atmosphere of their conversation. 

"If you like me, then..." Her smile was almost playful. "...it shouldn't be _too_ hard to keep your promise..." 

_Oh yeah. The kiss._

Shinichi couldn't help his shaky smile, although his heartbeat suddenly kicked up at the prospect. A kiss...with Ran...something he'd hardly dared even _dream_ of doing... She reached to take his hands--and he wondered with some embarassment when his palms had gotten so sweaty. "Um...Ran...about that...if you don't really want to I won't make you..." 

She was blushing too, but her smile remained; she seemed so much more confident than he felt...was she only teasing him? "Shinichi...if I wasn't serious, would I ask?" Her hands squeezed his, pulling him a half-step closer and causing his eyes to widen into saucers. 

She really expected him to do it? He hoped she _was_ dead serious...because right now there wasn't _anything_ he'd rather do. Even though he was scared half to death, there was something hot in the pit of his stomach--something that trickled through him with unmistakable impatience, a strange eager fervor--even as terrified as he was, he still _wanted_ this... 

With a nearly-audible gulp, he gathered the nerve to lean closer to her--close enough to feel her breath mingle with his. It was as near as he'd ever been, even as Conan--but he was in his grown body now, and _it_ had ideas too; his heart pounded and his nerves tingled in frightened-yet-willing anticipation. 

She was so sweet and trusting, eyes closed and face upturned innocently to him. He was nervous and utterly untried; the first kiss he gave her would be so awkward and unskilled--he had no clue _how_ but he was sure as hell going to try even if he was clumsy, and God he hoped she liked it because if she didn't he'd _never_ work up the courage to try again...and she was so close, _so close_ he could almost taste her and... 

_Pain_. 

He froze, his breath catching with the abruptness of it. The flickering heat he felt within had licked up, harsh and familiar--heat he'd _thought_ was the result of her closeness and the hope of her kiss. 

No, the giddy rush of warmth from her proximity was gentle and welcome--this was a far crueler sensation, one that would grow in intensity and agony until... 

_Oh God **no**..._ The air in his lungs came out in a rush as the heat in his stomach was suddenly replaced with dead cold--frigid fear that only served to accentuate the faint pain that began to course across his insides. _No, it's too soon...oh please, **please** no--not now--not **now--!**_

The sensation was unmistakable--that liquid fire that surged along his bones with each heartbeat, intensifying with every breath... 

"Shinichi?" Ran's eyes were open now, full of concern. "Shinichi, what's wrong? Are you okay?" 

_Not **now**--oh God not yet...why? **Why now?** It's too soon! Please, not yet...I haven't told her **anything!** God, not now, not right in front of her--I can't let her **see...!**_

With his breath suddenly coming in hard gasps, he stepped back, gulping--this time to swallow back the low moan of misery and distress that threatened to well up. "Ran..." he choked, barely able to marshall his voice with the terror that lodged in his throat. "I can't... I...I have to go...!" 

"Shinichi...?" The concern in her eyes turned abruptly to hurt, almost as if he'd struck her. "But...you promised...!" 

He was still backing away, trembling visibly as sweat broke out across his brow. "God, I'm so sorry Ran...!" With his teeth gritted against a cry of pure anguish, he whirled and began to run. Behind him, Ran stood stock-still for several long, shocked seconds--before she let out a yell of anger and began to follow him. 

Shinichi couldn't stop--he kept running. It was pure sprint, as fast as his legs could carry him, spurred by the growing pain that spread through his limbs like molten metal through a mold. Every step grew more difficult and the sensation of a stitch in both sides spread from his belly to his ribs, and then his legs and arms...until he was gasping every breath and forcing himself to _run_. He couldn't let Ran catch up--he couldn't let her _see_ this--he had to escape, even though there was no place for him to go but _home_. 

Thank God Beika Park was close to the Kudo house...but damn this fickle "cure"--and damn his own hesitation! He'd run himself out of time _again_--his own fault, his own stupid, _stupid_ fault...! 

He was running, and it _hurt_ to run--it hurt his soul to flee from Ran, it hurt his body to _move_...Ai had said no physical exertion close to the change, but here he was racing down the street like a madman. Who knew what would happen--he might pass out on the sidewalk and shrink down to a child right there, for all the world to see...right in front of Ran when she caught up... 

Pain and shame--God, it hurt to run; agony blossomed more sharply with every step, and he was already feeling feverish--would he even make it to his own house? There--there it was; his own driveway never semed more welcoming. He'd actually made it! 

Barely slowing, he stumbled toward the house, letting out gasping groans with each breath; he'd pushed himself further than he ever had before--he'd never kept moving this long once the change started... When he fell against the door and managed to fumble it open, he left it swinging wide as he tottered inside, vision blurring dangerously. 

He half-crawled up the stairs, focused on reaching the bathroom, his muscles spasming with cramps and hot painful numbness--he knew he could be doing irreparable damage to his body, pushing it like this where before he'd always stopped moving and given up to unconsciousness. But he couldn't give up now--not when Ran was following; his heartbeat throbbed more rawly than ever and he couldn't _breathe--!_

_Oh God, I've done it now--maybe I **will** die this time--it hurts, it **hurts...!**_

He couldn't see any more--nothing but hazy gray blur as he stumbled along the carpet, feeling blindly for the bathroom door. He knew it should be here--he knew his own house...his seeking fingers found the opening, and unreasoning relief surged through him, cooling the fire for a brief instant. He drew himself inside with a pained grunt, reaching to close the door and lock it...damn, the doorknob seemed _higher_--was he already starting to shrink? 

Safe at last, locked in the bathroom where no one would see... He couldn't get enough air, no matter how much he gasped--he couldn't see and his head spun until the room was sideways...heat--it was all so unbearably _hot_...but the floor was nice and cool where he collapsed on it... 

_Let go...let go, the darkness is colder..._

The last thing he heard was _her_ voice, calling loudly from somewhere nearby...downstairs...? She was _here_, and she was looking for him...and he could only pray that she didn't find him, that he could survive the journey back to Conan... 

_...sorry...I **tried**...so sorry, Ran..._

* * * * *

Ran had lost sight of Shinichi a ways back, but with the direction he was heading it became obvious to her that he was running for home. So that's where _she_ went as well, panting from exertion as she arrived on his doorstep to find the front door left carelessly open--and goodness, had he even left his _shoes_ on when he went in...? 

The sound of a door closing in the house startled her, and she gasped when she heard a heavy _thump_ from somewhere within. "Shinichi?" she called, standing hesitantly in the entryway. "Shinichi, I know you're here! Where are you?" 

When there was no answer, a cold lump of worry settled in her stomach. She closed the door softly behind her and reached down to pull off her sandals, stepping into the front hall listening carefully for any noise. 

"Shinichi?" The house was frighteningly silent--no footsteps, no rustlings, no sounds of life. She hurried upstairs, driven by some impulse--maybe he was hiding in his room... "Shinichi! Answer me!" 

The bedroom was empty, and so was the upstairs study--but the bathroom door was locked, so she knocked on it. "Shinichi, are you in there? Shinichi?" 

Again, no answer--but the door was locked from the inside, so he _had_ to be--! "Shinichi, I know you've gotta be in there! Come out and talk to me! Are you just avoiding me or something? What's the matter with you?" 

She felt tears of grief and frustration welling up--he wasn't saying anything...was he not even _there...?_ "If you really didn't want to kiss me you could have just _said_ so, you baka!" she called out to someone who might not even be in the house... "Are you trying to play games with me? You can be such a _jerk--!_ If you were scared to kiss me you could just tell me! I wouldn't _make_ you if you didn't want to! I'm not an ogre or anything--why can't you ever be honest with me when it _matters?_" 

She waited for several seconds, waited for an answer...but there was nothing but silence, and she began to wonder if she was just speaking to thin air. But if he _was_ there, and he was just ignoring her, shutting her out, refusing to talk with her... 

Her tears fell, tracing two new trails down her reddened cheeks. "Do you just hate me?" she asked at length. "If that's the case, just tell me...I'm just sick of being lied to if you're only _pretending_. If you don't care about me any more..." Her voice was overcome by a sudden gulping sob. _Oh God, I'll **die** if you don't...!_

"Shinichi, _why...?_" she choked, turning away from the silent bathroom door. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Sorry this chapter's so short, but it's a lead-off to a much bigger event--coming up next! Be patient just a little longer, and I'll have it done ASAP! I'm on a roll now, so it shouldn't be long! _

**Important note:** I've got a ton of new fanarts from **Magik** (^_^ Thank you, Magik!!) that are some gorgeous illustrations from File 8: Cards on the Table_. Go see!_   
**http://tailweaver.faithweb.com/dconan.html**


	11. Truth or Dare

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 11: Truth or Dare**

_**Ran--!**_

Shinichi awoke _fighting_--clawing his way back to consciousness almost as soon as the hot painful weight that smothered his mind was gone. As soon as he was _aware_ enough to struggle against it, he was thrashing in the blackness of his pain-induced sleep like a child flailing free of a heavy blanket--moving upward toward the light as though striving to climb from a dark cave, as though laboring to reach the surface of deep water. 

And just like a swimmer coming up from a long dive, he burst into wakefulness with a gasp of effort, sitting straight up off the floor--his first thoughts were for _her_ and for the first moment he forgot everything but her hurt, tearful face... 

But as both his mind and his vision cleared, he realized that the world had once again become a much bigger place--or rather, _he_ had become much _smaller_. Conan Edogawa had returned. 

"It's over," he whispered, soft childish soprano once more. Shattering disappointment--raw bitter anguish...his day with Ran had come to such an awful end, at such an _awful_ time... 

Gritting his teeth against the lingering aches of transformation, he began to pull himself upright, leaning heavily on the wall in the dark, silent bathroom. He was engulfed in his adult clothing; items which had fit perfectly only a few minutes ago now swamped him in loose material, hampering his efforts to get to his feet. As small as he'd become, he lost his jeans as soon as he stood up, and his blue shirt covered him like a robe. 

His hands fisted somewhere inside the far-too-long sleeves; grimacing in rage and frustration he slammed those same fists against the wall--small helpless fists that did little more than cause a sharp _thunk_ to resound through the room. Tiny, weak, vulnerable _child's_ fists, unable to do anything that was needed--fists and _body_ that forced him to rely on others, to remain subject to others' whims, to live utterly dependent on the adults around him. Forced him to hide from Ran and leave her hurting and alone... 

_Dammit...dammit...**dammit--!**_ he thought bitterly, pressing his forehead to the abused wall and fighting back sudden hot tears. _You stupid fake cure! Couldn't it have **waited?** Just a **few** minutes more? Just until I could give her what I promised, tell her how I feel, and say goodbye to her? God, why does this keep happening? Why do I have to live like this...?_

He was trembling as he stood there in the silent bathroom--shaking, and resisting the urge to cry. Tears would get him nowhere, would solve nothing--and he wasn't a child; he was a _man_, and regardless of his form he was determined to act like one... 

_But **why** did it have to be **then?** I wanted to keep my promise! Ten minutes--**five** would've been enough. I wanted to kiss her, maybe even hold her, and tell her...tell her I..._ Agonized, he beat his fist against the wall again--and against his will, he felt the tears coming. _Dammit, I couldn't even get to do **that**, could I? **Why**, God damn you--you stupid, fickle, worthless, half-baked excuse for a cure--!_

It was futile, railing against an inanimate object--worse, an inanimate object that had long since ceased to exist, having become merely a concept in his mind. Ai Haibara's short-term cure for his condition was not a secure solution, and he knew it--it was erratic by nature, and a strict twenty-four hours was _never_ guaranteed. His anger at himself he focused on the fickleness of the chemical he'd ingested--it hurt less if he could use it as a buffer against acknowledging his own hesitation and procrastination. 

He didn't even have a murder mystery as an excuse this time. It was, undeniably, his own fault. 

He forced himself up, away from the wall, wiping his face on the blue shirt's overlong sleeve. He couldn't stay and sulk here forever; he had a life to live--_Conan's_ life, dammit--and an evil syndicate to trash. The sooner he managed _that_, the sooner he could get back to his _own_ life--and to Ran. 

_Ran..._ As he pulled off the last of his adult clothes and tossed them to the floor, his thoughts turned to the girl he had hurt and cheated once again. _Damn, I should call her--no, she probably hates my guts right now, and she'd be pissed...but if I don't, she'll think I just abandoned her. She probably does anyway...shit, I don't have any excuses this time--I just ran like a spineless... _

But I have to be **Conan** now, dammit...or she'll start to wonder... As he pulled on the kid-clothes he'd left in the bathroom the previous afternoon, his mind turned quickly to a conclusion. _Wait! If I can go catch up to her as Conan, I can see just how mad she is so I'll know what to say when I call her...lame idea but it's **something**... _

I wish I'd had just a **little** more time... 

Spurred by his new plan, he hurried to finish pulling on his shirt and unlocked the bathroom door. Wearing only his pants and his unbuttoned shirt, he carried his socks and jacket with him, scooping his glasses off the counter and shoving them on almost as an afterthought as he hustled out into the hall. 

At the top of the stairs, he froze. There was someone still in the house--he could hear it. 

That someone was _crying_. 

_Oh God, it's **Ran...!**_

Guilt and shame crashed in on him as her sobs struck home--she was sitting downstairs somewhere crying her eyes out over him, because he'd been such goddamn coward and a liar...! 

What else could he do? He couldn't help it--not with the way he felt about her. Her weeping drew him inexorably; he left his bundle of clothes at the top of the stairs and made a halfway attempt to button his shirt as he followed the sounds of her grief, coming to a halt at the door to his father's library. Cautiously, he peeked within, leaning around the doorframe. 

His face pinched with self-reproach when he spotted her across the room. She was sitting on the carpet with her back to the door and her face in her hands; by some strange coincidence, she was sitting just at the spot where his parents kept the family photo albums--he'd sat in almost the same place when _he'd_ gone through them in a frenzy the other day... 

Or maybe not such a coincidence--before her, one of the photo albums lay open on the floor; he couldn't tell which, but it didn't matter now. 

She was sobbing, and it was all his fault. And there was nothing he could do now--nothing that would help. Nothing that she wanted. 

She wanted _Shinichi_. Not Conan. 

But no matter what face _he_ wore, _she_ was still _Ran_, and he still... 

"Ran...neechan." He was standing in the middle of the doorway now, face set with worry--he hadn't really meant to talk to her here but he _had_ to...she was crying and he wanted to do _something_... 

Obviously startled, Ran turned, wiping her face as she focused on the child standing in the door. Remorse flashed through him almost palpably when he saw her red, tear-streaked cheeks and desolate eyes. "Conan-kun? What are you...?" 

Ran stared at the boy in surprise, taking in his sweaty, unkempt appearance. Conan was barefoot and disheveled, his shirt only half-buttoned and his hair tousled with perspiration. He looked like he'd just been out roughousing with his friends--but Conan never did things like that if he could help it...and his eyes were so weary and concerned, not alight with recent fun... 

Conan swallowed, at a loss for what to say. "I just heard...saw you...I thought I should...come and..." he stuttered, reaching desperately for an explanation. "I was...afraid you might..." 

"I thought you were at Professor Agasa's," Ran said, somewhat confused as she sniffed and wiped her eyes. "I heard noises and the door was open, so...I thought maybe...Shinichi..." 

"Shinichi-niichan says he's sorry he can't come back now..." It came out before he thought first--stupid and incriminating, but his mouth just seemed to run on as he struggled for words. "He'll come back soon...so don't worry. He's really sorry and... Ran--neechan...um...are you okay? I got worried when I saw you...and I wanted to...make sure you..." 

She was staring at him, her gaze wide-eyed and piercing--such a _knowing_ stare that his voice creaked to a stop and his heart began to pound. He was just digging himself into a great big hole, and she was going to be the one to bury him... 

"Conan-kun...why are you here?" Ran asked, her mind a whirl of suspicion and disbelief once more. With Shinichi's abrupt disappearance, her hopes had been shattered...but Conan's sudden arrival--just a little while after Shinichi vanished--prompted her old familiar wonderings once again. "You can't really see what's going on here from Agasa's...and no one's come in the house, or I would've heard the door. I can't help but wonder...since I haven't seen you since yesterday morning...but Shinichi came and..." 

He gaped at her, unable to reply--unable to explain. _Oh no...I've **really** screwed up this time--the mother of all screw-ups, on top of the rest of this screwed-up week...!_

"And you knew about the kiss," Ran whispered, barely audible across the room. "The one Shinichi promised me on the phone...and he ran away just before..." 

_I'm busted..._ He flinched with guilt at her words; she must have seen it, because her eyes widened and there was suddenly something _in_ them--something sorrowful and knowing and understanding... 

She suddenly turned away, back to the album and the shelf, resting her hands on her knees, her head lowered until her bangs hid her eyes. Her shoulders shook faintly, accompanied by the sound of soft sniffles. 

"But...maybe you saw me running past on the street, right?" she asked, her voice broken by tears. "Maybe that's how you knew. You always seem to know. You're...such a mystery to me sometimes, Conan-kun...you're the most amazing little boy...and the smartest..." 

"Ran-neechan..." 

"I want you to be honest with me, Conan-kun," she said, her voice growing stronger though no less tearful. Her shoulders tensed, but she still didn't look at him. "I want you to tell me..._are you or are you not Shinichi Kudo?_" 

He caught his breath audibly, jolted by her directness. "Ran-neechan...?" 

"I've been wondering for so long...even though you've told me you're _not_. But there's so many things that keep..._reminding_ me, and making me think... Conan-kun, I'm just..._tired_ of not knowing for sure," she told him--unnerving him with the hidden strength in her tone, and the fact that she refused to face him. "Being uncertain hurts more than...being alone. I want you to tell me the truth..._please_, just this once..." 

_Ran..._

Her voice picked up, became pleading. "I just want to _know_, once and for all--just tell me the real truth this one time, and I promise I'll never ask again, no matter what the answer is. If you're just Conan, then I'll never bother you again--I won't scare you and make you unhappy because of Shinichi. But if you're...if you're _him_...then...I won't say _anything_, anything at all--I'll just keep on pretending and I won't talk about it--I won't even ask you why...please, just tell me the _truth_..." 

_Ran...God, Ran, I'm sorry..._

"Conan-kun?" 

The silence drew out; still, he couldn't say anything, caught in indecision. He could walk out of this--she'd said so herself. She'd given him a way out, given him her word she'd never accuse him of being Shinichi again. 

But she was asking--_begging_ for the truth; the truth he'd been hiding for so long. He'd done it all for her safety...right? Perhaps in the beginning, when he hadn't yet realized the scale of what he was up against--when he'd thought it was a simple matter of a few weeks, maybe a few months, and the breakup of a regular crime ring. And perhaps in part just because he was so goddamn ashamed to let her see him like that, reduced to a child. But it had been so long since then--and despite all his efforts he'd gotten _nowhere_ against the Black Organization...and he was still alone. Ran had waited so long too...and she could keep secrets, just like she'd said... 

Secrets and lies... This same sort of secrets and lies had just about broken his spirit three days ago--the day he'd found out his father had been hiding such an awful secret. Beyond the truth about his heritage, there were so many things his father kept from him... Dear old Dad would just neglect to tell him things until they became critical, or decide to leave him out of the loop during an investigation--all just to protect his "safety." He invariably ended up being in more danger due to lack of information, or _mis_information... 

Was that how Ran felt? Frustrated, saddened, and angry that the person she thought she could trust continually lied to her--and didn't trust her enough to share...? 

_Dad's told so many lies...to me, and even Mom...and now I'm shaping up to be just as big a hypocrite as him..._ He set his jaw, gritting his teeth. _The lies have to stop somewhere--they have to stop with **me**--_

"...Conan-kun...?" 

Ran's voice was tremulous now, as if suddenly uncertain. He realized she was watching him now, half-turned, in hesitant, almost frightened anticipation. He met her eyes with a shaky breath and a sorrowful half-smile; his voice was weak and trembling but he spoke with blatant honesty--with the _truth_. 

"Ran...I'm so sorry...I couldn't give you the kiss you wanted..." 

She gasped deeply, her hand flying to her mouth and her eyes brimming anew. She was turned fully to face him now, shaking her head as if in denial, suddenly dissolving into stunned, silent sobs as she _stared_ at him. 

_She knows now...she **knows**..._ Conan--_Shinichi_ felt a strange, slightly crazed smile appear on his lips; Ran knew the truth...and he wasn't sure what was going to happen next. He felt surprising relief, coupled with faint regret and growing fear. She was still staring at him--her hand was still over her mouth, though she looked like she wanted to burst out and ask him _why_. 

_Wait...no way--she was **serious** about that? She's really not going to...?_ Suddenly concerned, he took a few steps forward. "Ran...don't try to--please, say something! Tell me you're okay...please...!" 

Finally, her hand fell from her mouth--she was gaping, trying to speak. "_Shinichi...!_" 

He laughed shortly, crazedly, desperately... "Hi Ran, I'm...really sorry about running out on you before...I got scared, 'cause my time was up, and I didn't want you to see..." 

"Shinichi, you're...?" Her breath came in gasps, shaking with tears. "You're really...?" 

He nodded, still achingly unsure of what to say. "It's me. I'm Conan...or I _was_. Conan was for you...so I could hide...but now..." He took off his glasses, wondering why he'd bothered to put the blasted things on in the first place. "Now none of it matters...because you know, and these stupid things are _worthless...!_" Carelessly, angrily, he clenched them in his hand and threw them across the room, away from himself and Ran. The glasses clattered to a stop against Yuusaku's desk--and if they were broken, he didn't care. He shrugged roughly, looking to Ran again. "It's really me--all of me, all that's _left_ of me..." 

He'd given her permission to speak--to ask...and she was going to use it. Her expression flickered between shock, grief, and anger--with anger predominating; a good offense was her best defense. 

"Shinichi you...you _lied_ to me...all this time you've been...!" Her eyes were lighting up; her temper was attempting to salvage the tatters of her heart. Although tears flowed freely down her cheeks, she still stood up to rail at him, towering over him as she stepped forward. "Why couldn't you just tell me from the beginning? And every time I asked--you just kept--!" 

He winced with every accusation. "I know...I'm sorry..." 

"You're sorry?" she asked, almost incredulous. "You've been hiding from me _in my own house_ and lying to me about your whereabouts and your _entire_ identity...and you're just _sorry?_" 

He didn't back away, although he badly wanted to--being yelled at by a short-tempered young woman twice your size will do that. "I...I can't ever make it up to you...I just..." 

"I can't _believe_ you, Conan--Shinichi--whoever you are...!" Her hands were fisted--always a danger sign, around Ran Mouri--and her brows were drawn down to a furious scowl. "I thought...we've been friends so long--doesn't that mean _anything_ to you? Couldn't you even trust me that much? And I thought...from what you said..." Her fury suddenly melted to angry sadness, surprising him again. "You keep telling me...don't I mean more to you than...?" Her fists tightened--so tense he began to worry that she'd cut into her own palms. 

"Ran...listen...there's nothing I can do to make this up to you..." He began to babble, panicked--frantic to make sure she still _liked_ him, even a little. "I've been a bastard to you, even if I _wasn't_ stuck like this--look, why don't you just hit me? Just like you used to whack me good whenever I needed it, whenever I was being a total jerk--seriously, just haul back and clout me, but don't hit me _too_ hard 'cause I'm not as strong as I used to be--but go ahead and hit me, because I really deserve it and you know I do--I shouldn't've lied to you for so long...I should've...trusted...you..." 

Her expression had changed--so completely that it derailed his frantic chatter, startling him into somewhat terrified silence. She was no longer _furious_, but her eyes still contained a sad sort of anger mixed with tearful grief. 

"Uh...Ran...?" 

Ran dropped to her knees in front of him to make eye contact, reaching out toward him. He flinched but didn't withdraw when she hesitantly touched his arm. 

"Shinichi...you baka..." she whispered. "I can't... How could I hit you like this? You're..." Her tears had returned, trickling faintly. "I'm still mad at you, you know, but...I could really hurt you if I hit you now...and I just _couldn't_..." 

This time he really _did_ wince--he was weaker now, much weaker than her, and the knowledge _hurt_ no matter how used to it he should have been by this point. "Next time I turn back to my old self, you should--" 

"I just might," she replied smartly, with a faint frown. "But...I don't understand something. You were just--this morning, you were...but now you're..." 

He scratched the back of his head, scuffing a foot. "That's the whole crux of the problem," he said hesitantly. "That was only temporary...because I've been stuck like _this_ for the longest time." 

"How long? You came--_Conan-kun_ came right after--" She gasped again, pulling her hand back. 

"Yeah, right after that day at Tropical Land," he finished for her, looking down. "I've been like this ever since those guys caught me and fed me their goddamn poison--and did _this_ to me." He briefly held out his child's hands, as if they illustrated the entirety of the situation with his drug-altered body. "I saw them making a transaction in the back lot of the amusement park, but one of them caught me and knocked me out. They tried to kill me so I wouldn't reveal what I knew. Ever since then I've been hiding from you and lying to you because... Ran, what I told you on the bridge today is true too--if the men who did this to me find out I'm still alive..." 

Her eyes widened. "You mean...?" 

"...they'll come to kill me--and everyone around me. Agasa, the kids, my parents..._you_..." The tightness around his eyes betrayed his immense unease. "That's why I hid from you...and from everyone else. I couldn't take the chance of anyone finding out I'm alive. This case--it isn't a case, the police don't have a clue. Even though most of the major crap that's happened around here lately is because of _them_..." 

"Them? Them who?" 

Shinichi actually smiled a little then, sighing wearily. "You're going to want to know the whole story from top to bottom, aren't you? I might as well tell you...since I'm telling you the truth today." With a glance at Ran, he sat down right there on the carpet in front of her, making himself comfortable for the long haul. "You remember what happened at Tropical Land, how we solved that case and then I ran off--would you believe those two bastards who got me were riding in the Mystery Coaster with us? I already told you how they caught me, but even then I had no idea who they were or what they were involved in..." 

The story unfolded slowly from there; a brief reiteration of the hellish night at Tropical Land, followed by a careful explanation of the Black Organization--how far-reaching it was, how ruthless its plans, how dangerous his situation. Ran went pale when he told her about Ai Haibara--Shiho Miyano, the creator of APTX 4869, once a member of the cold-blooded syndicate but now hard at work on discovering a cure for the poison's effects. She grew strangely still as she began to understand _why_ Shinichi had kept this from her--one slip from him, from anyone who knew, and everything he cared about would be gone. He ended his narration by emphasizing his need for secrecy; not even the police knew about this, because there could be agents amongst _them_ as well--there was almost no one he was sure he could trust, not even those he thought were his friends. 

Her breath caught when she realized what he meant--he had _no one_ backing him up, no official help, no police protection. "Shinichi...you've been doing this _all alone?_ And...while you're like this...?" 

"What else can I do?" he asked helplessly, sitting back on his hands after his long tale. "You've got to understand this, Ran--the Black Organization is literally _everywhere_. From scientists and students to government employees and even police... One hint that you know about them and you're dead." His eyes met hers, full of earnest worry. "You can't let on that you know anything. Even now...you've got to pretend I'm still..." 

She nodded; although anger and frustration still sharpened her gaze, her temper was moderated by understanding. "I don't know how easy that will be," she confessed, looking down. "Knowing you're _you_, but still treating you like...like..." 

"A little kid?" Shinichi shrugged helplessly. "That's another reason I didn't want to tell you. I mean, look at Hattori--he just completely forgets sometimes..." 

"I can't believe he covered for you so long," Ran interrupted sharply. "And leaving poor Kazuha-chan out of the loop and making her embarass herself like that...!" 

He laughed weakly. "Heh...if it makes you feel any better, she scared the crap outta me...I thought she knew and she was gonna blow my cover sky-high." 

Ran gave him a glare. "You deserved whatever heart attack you got." 

"Heh...yeah..." Shinichi managed an apologetic grin. "Um...Ran...does this mean you're...uh...not...so mad at me any more...?" 

Her glare sparked, making him freeze nervously; her eyes narrowed and she regarded him sharply for several seconds. "I'm still mad at you, Shinichi Kudo. Because you lied to me, and you hid from me--even if it was for my own safety you could have been a little more honest with your silly phone calls. For God's sake, don't I deserve a better excuse than 'I'm off on a case, just sit on your thumbs and wait for me'? You could at _least_ have told me that your life was in danger and you needed to be hiding--then I wouldn't have thought I meant less to you than a stupid murder...!" 

His grin had turned to a remorseful grimace, his eyes tightened with guilt. "I'm sorry, Ran--I've said it before, and I'll keep saying it. I know I haven't handled this very well--not very well at all, but I've been...I've been..._not myself_ lately, obviously..." He trailed off with an unchildlike snort. 

_Very_ unchildlike; she was so used to _Conan_--to the mask--and now that he wasn't hiding...it rather unnerved her. Conan's voice, speaking with Shinichi's inflections--Conan's face, displaying Shinichi's expressions... She began to wonder how he did it--how he lived with it, putting up that childish face as a mask to the world every day. She began to wonder if she'd miss her little Conan... 

"Ran? Are...you okay?" 

She looked up--and was startled to see Conan in front of her again. No, wait--not Conan, but Shinichi's honest concern and tremulous question mirrored the little boy she knew...she _thought_ she'd known... "I...I don't know yet," she admitted, dropping her eyes again. "I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. I can't believe you'd just...keep all this from me, from the very first...!" 

He looked down too. "I was scared." 

"What?" _That_ got her attention--so rarely did the Shinichi she knew admit any such weakness! 

The small shoulders lurched in a faint shrug, and he picked at the carpet uncomfortably. "I've spent a lot of this time...ever since that night...either frightened out of my mind or bored to death of being Conan. I guess a lot more of the time I've been scared...the night I got home I was cold and wet and miserable, and I was still in shock because of what happened. I didn't really have much time to _think_ before you came and I had to invent Conan...and...I was still scared." 

"Shinichi..." 

He shrugged again, fitfully. "I didn't really want you to find out. I thought I could fix it in a few weeks, so I didn't tell because...even if it _wasn't_ dangerous it's...humiliating, being stuck like this. I didn't want you to _see_..." 

She winced, invisibly, just a slight change in her eyes that showed both anger and sympathy. "Did you think I would laugh at you?" 

"Well...no...but..." 

They sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes, both staring at the carpet and thinking their own thoughts. Now and then they glanced at each other; Shinichi wondering if Ran was all right, Ran trying to digest everything that Shinichi had told her. 

Shinichi began to grow nervous as Ran continued to stare into space; wanting to avert the possibility of an outburst, as well as make her more comfortable, he sat up straight and clambered to his feet. "Um...you want something to drink?" he offered hesitantly. "I don't think there's much more than water, with the house being empty so long--but there might even be some frozen juice or something..." 

Ran only shrugged faintly; still inwardly guilty, he trotted out of the room and headed down the hall. He hurried to the table to grab a chair, his small bare feet slapping across the kitchen floor. The noise of the chair's legs scooting over the linoleum seemed loud in the silent, unlit house as he pulled it into position beneath the cupboard that housed the pitchers. Clambering up onto the counter, he fetched down a single pitcher to mix the juice in, then made his way back to the floor. 

He was just about to drag a chair over to the next cupboard for some glasses when a gentle hand rested lightly on the top of his head; long habit and his own surprise stopped him where he stood. Startled, he looked up into Ran's eyes, her gaze sympathetic with only the smallest hints of a smile at her lips. "Here, let me," she offered softly. 

"Thanks," he mumbled, disgruntled at his handicap. While he stood blushing and grateful, she fetched the glasses down from the cupboard, setting them beside the pitcher before going through the freezer in search of some frozen juice cans. 

"Don't look so glum--I can help if you need it," she said as she looked, her voice almost returned to the Ran he knew. She no longer sounded so morose; perhaps it was just that she had something to _do_ now. 

But her kindly offer only made him blush more; he leaned against the lower cupboards, looking down. "That's just it; it's _embarassing_ to have to ask people to get things down for me...especially when they know who I really am. And the people who don't know sometimes just _won't_, even if I ask." 

Ran backed out of the freezer, coming up with a can of tropical punch. "I can't imagine anyone being so rude..." 

Shinichi laughed softly. "It's not rude, it's just _adults_. Believe me, I'm used to being overlooked, brushed off, tossed aside--even damn near _walked on_ just because I'm small. Grownups just ignore kids--even you do it. You drag me along to go shopping and get chatting with Sonoko, and I'm down here going, 'Hellooo, Ran-neechan!'" 

"I...I didn't mean to!" she protested, blushing slightly, the juice can clutched in her hands. 

"I know you didn't." He shrugged, not unkindly. "I don't mind so much any more--like I said, I'm used to it. It's easy to investigate a case if no one's paying attention, and everyone just thinks I'm a kid playing around who doesn't comprehend anything that he sees..." 

"I didn't think that," Ran informed him, starting to prepare the juice in the pitcher. "I always thought you were a very intelligent, observant little boy..." She trailed off, pausing to think. "Hm. You _are_ a very intelligent, observant little boy." 

"Only I'm not a little boy." 

"You're a boy, and you're little. Therefore..." 

"Yeah, yeah..." He frowned almost petulantly at the faint trace of smugness in her tone. If falling back on a little of their old teasing would help put her in a better mood, he was all for it. Even if he might not _enjoy_ it...but then again, maybe he would. 

Ran actually giggled softly--for the first time since their date ended that afternoon. He looked up at her, a little surprised, as she laughed while stirring the punch in the pitcher. "It's strange," she began after a few moments, once her giggles had passed. "You really sound like _you_. Especially just now... Even with Conan's voice, you remind me of all those times we walked to school together, talking and joking..." 

"I _am_ still me," he said quietly. "No matter what the outside looks like. I'm..." His mouth quirked a little. "I'm just economy-size now. And I'm not hiding from you any more." 

"It's much easier to guess who you are when you talk like this," Ran observed absently. "And you did it so often...I wonder why no one ever..." 

"Human beings believe what they see," Shinichi responded with a shrug. Then he put on a big smile, brightened his eyes, and spoke with his Conan-voice, little-boy sweet. "An' I do _this_ so no one'll ever guess, 'cause I'm little and cute! Right, Ran-neechan?" 

Startled when he spoke as such, Ran had turned to stare at him--but when she caught sight of the teasing glimmer that crept in behind "Conan's" eyes, she shook her stirring spoon at him. "You are absolutely _shameless_, Shinichi. Don't _scare_ me like that!" 

Conan vanished in a trice; Shinichi returned, all repentant concern. "Sorry...I was just joking..." 

With a sigh, Ran set the spoon down and poured the tropical punch into the two glasses. "I'm having enough trouble just putting all this together in my head, you know--you and...and Conan-kun..." 

"I-I won't do that around you any more," Shinichi promised quickly. "Not unless there's other people. And they don't matter as much--you're the one I had to do the biggest act for, because you know me so well." 

She smiled faintly, handing one of the glasses to him. "I just wish you'd told me from the beginning." 

"I know--so do I." He sipped his drink, grateful for its coolness, grateful for the sweet liquid that would wash away the sticky dryness in the back of his throat--half from his long bout of talking and half from his feverish transformation. _Haibara **did** say to drink lots..._ "I think I should've told you from the start...or at least given you a better excuse, like you said. But the more I waited, the harder it got--I realized just how much danger we're in, and I also knew the longer I hid the more mad you'd be when I finally..." He blushed, trailing off when he realized she was looking pointedly at him. 

"I think I do have the right to be angry with you, Shinichi," she said firmly. "You've been living in my home." 

He gulped. "Uh...this mean you're still mad?" 

"Of course I am!" she replied sharply. "I'm _very_ upset at you and I don't think I'll _stop_ being upset at you for quite a while. Besides being lied to, there's your behavior this afternoon." 

_Oh yeah..._

"You just ran off and left me without so much as an explanation--you didn't even say you were _sick_ or anything, you just took off. You didn't even keep your _promise_." 

Wincing, flinching, and cringing all in the same movement, Shinichi all but curled into a guilty, embarassed little ball--an amazing feat, achieving such while still standing upright. "I--I was just about to change back--I got kinda nervous, being in public and all....I swear I really meant to do it--honest I did! I just...kinda...freaked out..." 

Ran's gaze softened a little. "I guess I can understand that, but...you made it seem like it was _me_--" 

"No!" His protest, loud and abrupt, almost made her jump. "I mean...I'd give anything to have just...five more minutes." 

"But why can't you?" Ran asked suddenly. "You were...yourself...this morning, and last night...why not now? Can't you just take another one of those pills?" 

Shinichi blinked at her as if that patent fact had never occurred to him. "Hot damn, you're right!" His face lit up like Christmas lights, and a wide grin appeared. "I could just go see if Haibara has another one handy--then I can keep my promise, _and_ I'll stand very still so you can whack me as hard as you want--" 

"Baka..." Ran muttered to herself; she didn't really care if she could hit him--it was the _other_ part she was interested in. 

"--and then you'll feel better and we can even have the rest of the day to ourselves! What a great idea, Ran! Just gotta go finish getting dressed--where the hell did I leave my socks...?" 

A sudden bundle of energy, Shinichi left his mostly-empty drink on the counter and all but galloped out of the kitchen in search of the remainder of his clothing. Ran watched him go, slightly startled at his abrupt change of mood--and how Conan-like he suddenly seemed. 

Shinichi--_her_ Shinichi, the teenage boy she knew--would get so excited about some things now and then...sometimes the _strangest_ things...and his face would light up and he would run about like a child... 

_How much of an act is "Conan?"_ she wondered. _He can't be just a mask--not all the time, not with how long I've known him. How much of Shinichi really **is** Conan?_

Still contemplating the strange not-child Shinichi had become, she set her cup down and followed him--more sedately, of course--ready to accompany him to Agasa's...and the confrontation that might await them there. She would meet Ai Haibara again...that strange little girl that she now knew _wasn't_ a little girl--"Ai" had given her the creeps sometimes, but the _truth_...was almost frightening. 

Sighing, she turned in at the library once more, remembering the glasses that Shinichi had thrown away--glasses he'd need to become Conan for the world outside. She picked them up from the floor by the desk, checking them for damage; they seemed whole, despite the rough treatment. As she came back out into the hall, Shinichi was already thumping down the stairs, having apparently located his socks and gotten them on his feet. 

"Ready to go?" he asked eagerly, catching sight of her as he hit the ground floor. 

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, her voice _almost_ slipping into the "Ran-neechan" tones he knew so well. 

"Huh?" 

"Honestly..." Shaking her head, Ran knealt before him, sliding the glasses on to his face and taking note of the fact that he'd buttoned his jacket crooked in his hurry. She sighed softly, ruefully, undoing the buttons to refasten them straight. "Sometimes it's no wonder you can fool everybody." 

Shinichi flushed at her ministrations, fidgeting--and turned even brighter red when she reached up to run her fingers over his hair, attempting to smooth the sweat-tousled mess it had worked itself into. 

"What would you do without me?" she asked, standing up to look him over with a disapproving eye--he still looked like a disheveled little boy. 

Shinihchi shrugged in embarassment. "I have no idea," he admitted honestly, a blushing grin creeping to his face. "But I think I know what I want to do _with_ you. C'mon, let's go see Haibara." 

He held open the front door for her, playing the gentleman until the last possible moment. She stepped out briskly, Shinichi trotting right behind--and quickly becoming Conan again, for whoever might see. 

As she went, Ran felt a strange, faint smile appear on her lips; as mad as she was at him, it was still somehow comforting to know that Shinichi had never really left her. In the guise of Conan, her little shadow, he had followed her, protected her, and comforted her in every way he could. Despite her anger, she was grateful--_glad_ to know she meant so much to him. She could understand his feelings--she could understand how hard he tried and how good his intentions were. Even though he'd made mistakes, even though he'd kept such an important thing from her, he was still her Shinichi--he was still the one she cared about the most, and even though she was still angry with him, she knew in her heart she'd already forgiven him. Because she knew how much he cared. 

But she was _still_ going to make him sweat for a while--forgiving or not, she was still saddened and angered by his deception. And shortly, once Shinichi was able to return to his true size again, she was going to make him keep his promise...and _then_ she was going to make sure he understood that no matter what happened, he could always confide in her and had no reason to hide anything from her--because she would always care about him, too. Even if she _did_ have to whack him to get her point across. 

Even if she had to enforce his promise _twice_ to make sure he got it. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Eep, nobody shoot me please! I'm working on the next chapter as fast as I can! It'll be up soon, I'm already well under way. See ya then!_


	12. A Game of Hearts

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 12: A Game of Hearts**

The house was strangely quiet when Kaito returned from his grumpy little hike around the neighborhood. Despite his still-dark mood, the silence inside unnerved him--his mother usually had music playing, or sometimes the television was on, and he could normally hear her puttering around the house, humming along with the stereo. But as he slipped off his shoes and stepped down the hall, he could barely make out any signs of life. It was like coming home last night--quiet house and worried voices, and finding his mother so stressed and upset... 

His aimless bout of wandering that afternoon hadn't done him much good at all; it hadn't helped lift the weight he felt on his heart. His faceless uncle was still on his mind--and if Yuusaku Kudo had seen fit to call his mother up and cause her such distress, then he was likely to appear soon. Kaito was both dreading and anticipating the chance to finally meet the man, but he knew that he wasn't going to be the first objective on Yuusaku's list of targets. 

The first one to be sought out would be Shinichi. 

Following the faint sounds of kitchen-noises, Kaito gritted his teeth, feeling an uncharacteristic spike of anger at the thought of his uncle reaming Shinichi out for this whole mess. It wasn't his cousin's fault--Kaito had been the one to start the ball rolling, to deal this hand of cards. He'd found in Shinichi such a rare companion, such an unexpected _friend_, and he didn't want to lose what cautious ground they'd gained because of Ojisan's ire. And besides, the revelations had been his own doing; he wouldn't stand for Shinichi to take the blame in this. 

Fumiyo Kuroba was in the kitchen, working at the sink. Kaito stopped in the door, almost surprised to find her there. She was uncharacteristically quiet and her motions were quick and nervous; if he didn't know better, he'd guess her hands were shaking. 

"Mom? I'm home," he announced quietly. 

She turned to glance at him, something hurting and hollow in her eyes. "Kaito...hello. Dinner is still on the table; I kept your portion warm for you." 

"Um...thanks." 

Puzzled by her reservedness, he watched her wash dishes for a moment before going on, heading for the table--he was a bit hungry, no matter what sort of mood he was in. At the table, he was further perplexed; he quietly noted that it seemed she'd made a lot of food tonight, but most of it was gone--and she was washing dishes just now, plates and cups...more than just two sets. And they had been the formal dishes, too--the ones his mother kept in a high cupboard for guests and special occasions. 

Had they had visitors? He wondered about the prospect as he began to eat; it could have been anyone, from the neighbors to an acquantance of his mother's. If Shinichi were there, he mused to himself, he'd be able to make certain--Kaito held his own intelligence and observation skills as second to none, but there was just something _sharper_ about his quiet cousin that could take tiny details and put them all together into solid facts. Shinichi could probably tell what sort of guests they'd had, from evidence left around the table and sitting room. 

Kaito finished his meal quickly, thinking ruefully that he should take some deduction lessons from his cousin--it might even make his own "occupation" easier. To save his mother the trouble, he carried his plate to the kitchen, staying silent even though he wanted to ask her what was wrong. She accepted the dishes from him just as quietly, somehow not meeting his eyes. He turned to go, reaching the kitchen door before her soft voice stopped him. 

"Kaito..." 

"Hm?" He glanced back, solemn. 

At last, his mother was gazing at him, her eyes filled with sadness and affection. "Kaito, I want you to know...I love you, and I'm very proud of you. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I want you to remember that, so...be careful, and take care of yourself. No matter what happens from now on...remember..." 

"Thanks, Mom. You know I will." For the first time that day, he smiled. "Don't worry. I know Dad is watching over me." 

She smiled too, tearfully, wordlessly, her gaze alone sufficient to communicate all her love and pride and concern. 

"Good night, Mom," he added quietly, turning to head for his room. 

* * * * *

Ran and Conan stepped out of Professor Agasa's house, both silent and somber. Ran was watching Conan carefully--he was so morose she could almost _see_ the black raincloud above his head. His small feet dragged and his hands were shoved in his pockets; his expression was equal parts anger, despair, and petulance. 

"Shinichi," she said softly, so that no one might overhear. "Come on, it's not that bad..." 

"But...a _week...!_" the boy said, with an air of having repeated this incredulous sentence several times before. 

"I know," Ran replied as they headed down the Professor's walk. "But Haibara-chan..." She grimaced at her own choice of names for the woman-child in the house behind them. "...said that you had to wait that long for your own safety. If you take one pill after another--you know what she said!" 

"I know, I know..." he muttered, still sulking. "But I wanted to...and...a whole _week...!_" 

Their arrival at Agasa's had been greeted in the Profesor's usual way--Conan-kun and Ran, just coming for a visit. The older man had been quite shocked when Shinichi told him bluntly that Ran _knew_ now--and Ai Haibara, having overheard, was rather displeased with him for revealing everything. 

Watching Haibara and Ran lock gazes in a female staring contest had been a tense several seconds for Shinichi. But Haibara said nothing bitter and Ran didn't even seem to get angry, so he breathed a sigh of relief--disaster avoided. 

Then had come more discussion. While Shinichi pleaded for another capsule of temporary cure--only to be firmly denied--Agasa scuttled off to prepare some tea. When it was served, the four of them had sat uncomfortably on the couches to talk about their situation now. Ran got a little more of the story--told mostly by the ever-cool Ai, filling in details that Shinichi had left out in his nervous, hurried version at the Kudo house. Always a moderating presence, Agasa reassured Ran that right now, things were fairly safe as long as she was careful not to let on what she knew. There was nothing she had to do at this point, except to go about like normal and look after Conan--in response to which Shinichi muttered that he didn't _need_ "looking after," thank you very much. 

Encouraged by Agasa's--and eventually Ai's--acceptance as one of the People Who Know, Ran just asked him what he'd do without her to watch over him, lightly patting his head once with a wink just to remind him. 

To the puzzlement of the other two, Shinichi just blushed and sank down into the cushions, acceding to "Conan's" need for a guardian. End of argument. 

By the time the conference was over, both Ran and Shinichi were a little more at ease--although Shinichi begged once more for a capsule, depressed that he couldn't get Haibara to give in. But Ai _did_ turn to Ran and tell her that if Kudo-kun behaved himself, she would promise to give them the capsule next weekend. 

It was dark outside and the hour was late as Ran and Conan exited Agasa's yard and began the trip back to the Mouri Detective Agency. Despite the reassurance of Agasa and Ai, Conan was still in a funk about the capsule and scuffed his way along behind Ran with a decidedly dejected air. His pouting did not go unnoticed by her, since she had been watching him for some time, so she finally spoke up. 

"Shinichi, _please_, stop this. If _I_ can wait until next weekend, _you_ certainly can." 

"You're not the one who's _stuck_," he complained bitterly. "And don't call me that out here--I'm _Conan_, remember?" 

"Sorry. But it can't be _that_ bad..." Ran replied, half uncertain. 

"Oh, trust me, it is," Conan grumbled. "At the very least, there's surviving another week of kiddy school. Do you know how _boring_ that is? My brain turns to jelly at the mere _thought_." 

Ran tried to keep her giggle bottled in; Shinichi's feelings would be hurt if he thought she was mocking his situation. "It must be rough, then." 

A loud sigh from behind her let her know that yes, indeed, it was rough and he was exasperated with it. "Now, now," she chided gently, "you were just bugging me about _Conan_, so you shouldn't get too out of character yourself." 

She heard a cough. "You're right...sorry," Conan responded. "It's too easy to forget...now that I can _talk_ with you." 

They came to the first curb where they'd have to cross a street, waiting for the crosswalk light to flash green. There wasn't much traffic at this time in the evening, especially in this area, but one must always be careful. Almost out of habit, she reached down to Conan, touching his shoulder. He twitched, but didn't respond--until she spoke. "Shin--Conan-kun, your hand." 

"Huh? Why? I thought--" 

"Just give me your hand." 

Hesitant, he obeyed, reaching up to let her clasp his small hand in hers. The light changed, and they crossed the street, but when they reached the other side she still didn't release him, continuing on down the sidewalk. 

"Um, Ran...neechan? If you don't want to, you don't have to keep--" 

"Be quiet." 

Conan gulped, staying right at her side and trying to resist the urge to look up at her face. He was blushing enough as it was; despite the fact that he'd held Ran's hand so many times in the past, walking at her side just like this, there was something _different_ about it now. Her grip was no longer the light, casual hold of a girl keeping a little child from wandering--her grasp was firm, gentle, close...as it had been when she'd held hands with _Shinichi_. 

She knew whose hand she was holding. The knowledge warmed him, heating his cheeks, making him tighten his grip on her hand just a little more. Things would never be the same between them from now on--between Ran and Shinichi, Ran-neechan and Conan. He still worried for her safety, but it felt _good_ to know she knew, to know she still accepted him, still cared about him. Suddenly his lack of height didn't matter quite as much as it had before. 

They were both faintly smiling as they walked side by side. Outwardly they might have been only a teenage girl leading a little boy...but in their hearts and their dreams, Ran and Shinichi were a young couple walking home hand in hand on a beautiful evening, enjoying the peaceful conclusion of their somewhat interrupted date. 

That is, peaceful until they arrived at Ran's home, to be greeted at the front door by a loud, irate Kogoro Mouri. 

"_Ran!_" the private detective demanded, all but dragging her in the door. "Where have you _been_ all day? I'm about to _starve_ here! How _dare_ you leave your father with nothing but a silly note and _no food!_" 

Conan tiptoed around the fuming man, trying to stay out of harm's way and go find something to play up his kid act; he ended up plunking down on the far side of the living room next to a pile of Kamen Yaiba manga. Ran regained her balance, frowning primly, and firmly shrugged Kogoro's hands off of her shoulders. "Couldn't you have boiled some water and made a cup of noodles?" she asked, rather irritated herself at being accosted so soon after a relatively pleasant evening. 

Kogoro grunted. "I've had instant ramen for breakfast _and_ lunch. So what about dinner?" 

"What about it?" 

"Aren't you going to make me some?" 

Ran sighed and rolled her eyes. "Of course, Dad. Far be it from me to disturb your evening TV time to concern you with when I'll get your supper prepared." 

As Ran began to slip off her shoes, Kogoro stepped back to seat himself on the couch. "So where _were_ you, anyway? I called Agasa and the Suzuki girl, and no one had seen you..." 

"I went out by myself--is that okay with you?" Ran scowled, leaving her coat in the closet. "Jeeze, Dad, I'm not a little girl, you know." 

"Ran-neechan's _very_ responsible," Conan piped up from his seat on the carpet with childlike helpfulness, earning a glare from Kogoro. 

"All the same, just a note that says 'I'm going out, make your own breakfast,' doesn't set a father's mind at ease," Kogoro grumbled, rooting out the remote and turning on the television. "You could run into kidnappers and murderers and I wouldn't have a _clue_ where to start looking for you!" 

_That's for sure,_ Conan thought, hiding his twitching mouth behind the manga he was reading. 

"Thank you for caring, Dad." Ran smiled softly behind his back, heading for the kitchen to fix up something warm and quick. The television nattered away in the living room while she worked. Gradually, the smell of hot food permeated the small apartment, drawing Conan in like a moth to flame, and he hovered around her to peer over the edge of the counter and see what was cooking. They shared a brief, secret grin there in the kitchen, where Ran's father couldn't see. 

Dinner was served quickly and simply, with two hungry males eagerly digging in. Conan gulped his food silently, content to watch Ran out of the corner of his eye, but Kogoro continued to mutter about his daughter's lateness. 

While Ran was clearing the dishes, Kogoro finally seemed to come to a head in his complaints. "Ran," he announced firmly and gruffly, standing to face her. "The next time you're late, I want you to call home." 

Ran sighed, hiding her smile. "Yes, Dad, I will. I would have this time, but I was a little occupied. I...stopped to pick up Conan at the Professor's on my way home." 

"You could have called from there." 

"It's not _her_ fault," Conan added in, smiling apologetically from somewhere around Kogoro's legs. "We had too much fun at Professor Agasa's! I guess it's my fault, huh?" 

"Darn right!" Kogoro whacked the boy on the head to emphasize his displeasure. 

"_Ow!_" 

The plate in Ran's hands hit the floor, startling everyone--and she was suddenly gripping her father's forearm hard, her eyes bright and sharp. "Don't you _dare_ hit him!" 

Kogoro stared at her, taken aback--and Conan, rubbing his sore head, did the same. Ran glared at her father for a moment longer before relenting, realizing how she sounded. She whirled away, picking up the plate and checking it over for damage--luckily, it had landed on the carpet--and carrying it to the kitchen. "I just want you to stop doing that!" she called back severely. "Really, Dad, he's only a kid! Grow up!" 

Recovering from his astonishment, Kogoro harrumphed loudly. "Feh, he's just a pint-size nuisance in sneakers," he retorted--without much conviction behind it. 

_"Only a kid?" Ouch...Ran, c'mon..._ Still rubbing his head, Conan edged out of arm's reach, resolving to give Kogoro a wide berth this evening. 

What was Ran thinking? Jumping to his defense like that could be construed as a major change in behavior--something others might notice, even if Kogoro hadn't. He'd have to speak to her about it soon--as well as a few other things, to prepare her for the strenuous times ahead of them; she had to be ready to go on just as things had always been. Perhaps it would be hard for her, but it had been hard for him as well. 

At least they were really _together_ now. 

* * * * *

Soft footsteps outside her bedroom door caused Ran to look up, hastily wiping her face and composing herself. She wasn't surprised when the door eased slowly open, just enough to admit a small tousled head that didn't even reach the height of the knob. Round blue eyes blinked at her from behind glass lenses, as if surprised to see her awake at this hour. In the light of her bedside lamp, the childish face was shadowed with sudden concern, quickly hidden. 

"Oh...sorry," the boy whispered, drawing back. "I was just...um...checking on you. I guess...I'll just let you--" 

"Conan-kun...Shinichi." Ran's voice stopped him, brought him back through the opening. 

"Huh?" 

"Please...stay. Just for a little while." 

Shinichi gulped. "But...um..." 

"Please?" Her eyes met his, and though her face was dry her cheeks were reddened, and her eyes held the memory of tears. She was just sitting there on her bed, her blankets untouched, her face lit dimly by the bedside light. 

How could he say no to her? Quietly, he crept to her bedside, dropping off his slippers as he made the long-practiced hop-and-knee-up that put him on the bed beside her. He sat there in silence for a few moments, hands folded in his lap, glancing at her every so often. 

"Ran...are...you okay?" he asked at last. 

Ran took a deep breath, wiping briefly at the eye furthest from him. How could she begin to quantify her emotions into words? Such powerful, tangled things weren't really made to be expressed in speech. "I haven't gone to bed yet because part of me is afraid today was all just a crazy, terrible, wonderful dream and when I wake up, you'll still only be Conan-kun and my Shinichi will still be gone..." 

Shinichi surprised her with his quiet snort, full of strange, sad humor. "I can't tell you how many times I've wished this _was_ all a dream--Conan, the Black Organization, all of it. Except for this morning." He looked up to meet her eyes, smiling faintly as he removed Conan's glasses and set them on the bed beside him. "Ran, I'm still here, and I'm sure not going anywhere. I'll still be me--I'll still be _Shinichi_ tomorrow. I always will. Even if sometimes I'm Conan too." 

Ran sighed, as if a heavy load had been lifted. "I know...I'm just being silly..." She sniffed, wiping at her eyes again, trying to conceal her tears. 

"But then...why are you crying?" he asked, barely above a whisper, his voice suddenly full of worries and shadows. 

"I don't know," she confessed, her voice cracking a little. _I could never hide anything from him...not from Conan-kun, not from Shinichi..._ "I just don't know. I feel so glad that I know the truth now, and I'm so relieved, but...I'm also scared for some reason, like I'm just going to lose you again...and I'm still mad at you because you lied, and you hid...and you didn't trust me..." 

His frail shoulders drooped. "If it makes you feel this bad, I wish I hadn't told you--that way at least you'd still--" 

"Still be waiting and worried and lonely for you?" Ran interrupted, more sharply than she'd intended. "How can you think I'd be better off like that? I told you I'm _glad_ I know. The truth sometimes hurts, but it's better to be hurt by the truth than by lies." 

Shinichi winced, remembering a time in the not-too-distant past when he'd spoken nearly the same words himself--he knew the sharp, clean bite of the cutting truth...and the burning, festering pain of lies was far worse than truth's briefer sting. "I'm sorry..." 

"I wish you'd told me sooner," Ran said, more softly, lowering her head. "Or even from the beginning. We were best friends...and being lied to like that is like a betrayal. I missed you--the _real_ you--while you were right beside me the whole time, just watching me suffer. I feel almost like...my feelings didn't mean anything to you...like they were less important than catching those Black guys." 

Shinichi flinched again, hands fisting. 

"I thought you were a little boy. I took you places, showed you things...I even lifted you up and _held_ you...I told you things about me, and about...you...secrets I thought I was sharing with my adopted little brother..." A tear fell, flashing briefly in the lamplight before disappearing into her lap. "And you still...you still just kept... Can't you understand how that feels?" 

"No." Shinichi swallowed hard, staring downward himself. "Only a little. I've always lived for the truth, and I know how much lies hurt...but I've felt like such an awful hypocrite for the longest time." 

"Well, you are." 

"I know," he replied. "And I hate myself for putting you through this...but I thought if you knew, and _they_ knew you knew, they'd kill you. Or somehow I'd get found out, and you'd die anyway..." He glanced at her, brows furrowed with painful honesty. "Ran, please believe me; I would've told you everything, but I was scared to death of them--scared for you, and for everyone I care about. I've...seen what those bastards are capable of...and how far they go. I...I didn't want it to be _you_ lying on the floor...in a puddle of blood..." 

Ran glanced at him, knowing from the distant look in his eye that his vivid mind was giving him a graphic picture of the possibility he had just hinted at in words. He seemed to tremble briefly, as if lost in that image and living through the prospect of her death. "Shinichi..." 

He blinked, haunted blue eyes turning once again to her. "I couldn't let that happen to you," he whispered. "I want to make things better for you but..." He stared at the small, frail hands in his lap. "...I just can't do much of anything, can I? I'm so damn helpless." 

"No...you're not...!" she protested faintly, suddenly unable to bear the pain in his eyes. "I've seen you do such wonderful things--even like this, you've saved so many lives, done so much justice...!" 

"At the cost of your trust," he sighed. 

"But I can forgive you," Ran said with sudden strength. "And trust can grow again, even if it takes time. But once someone is dead...it's forever. You can't bring them back. With every mystery you solve--every murderer you stop--you're saving someone's life. Someone, somewhere...they're alive because of you." 

He stared at her, caught by her raw, truthful words. "Ran..." 

"I know you're trying your best to protect everyone," she continued softly, turning to face him fully. "Even when you lied to me...I understand why you did, even if it makes me sad. I know that's just how you are...you hate to see wrongs being done, or anyone in trouble, and you do so much trying to help... That's why you're so important to me...someone with a heart like yours is so rare. I could search the world over a thousand times and never find someone who cares for others as much or as deeply as you do..." 

He hadn't realized she was as close as she was until her hand rested on his shoulder; he hadn't realized how hot his cheeks were until they suddenly burned at her touch. "Um...Ran..." he gulped, unsure of what to say--anything he could think of at the moment was totally inadequate next to what she'd just told him. "So...are you...not...mad at me any more?" he asked lamely, hopefully. 

Her slight, amused smile surprisd him. "Of course I'm still mad at you," she said, her voice not quite so serious. "But that doesn't mean I can't forgive you. I forgive you, even if I'll still be angry with you for a while." 

His breath came out in a relieved rush. "Thanks..." 

The hand on his shoulder squeezed a little before withdrawing. "Shinichi," she said firmly, openly, "I do want to help you, too. If there's anything I can do, even if it's--" 

"I'd rather you not be involved," he told her, somewhat quickly. "I don't want you to get hurt trying to--" 

"I want to help you find a cure and beat those Black Organization guys," she repeated, frowning in seriousness. "Shinichi, you can't expect me to just--!" 

"This is yet _another_ reason I didn't want to tell you," he interjected, mindful of his volume. "I didn't want you to charge off into the fray trying to save my bacon." 

She gave him a mild glare. "Like it doesn't _need_ saving from time to time." 

He blushed, and this time it wasn't from her closeness. "Alright, you've got me there. You just shouldn't take unnecessary risks for my sake--" 

"And you haven't for me?" 

"You're making this very hard, Ran..." 

"Why, because I'm right?" 

"No...yes--no!" Shinichi sighed, scratching his head. "I understand what you're saying, and those are very good reasons. But I don't want you to get hurt. And that's what'll happen if you start trying to take on the Black Organization. I know I need help...but I'm not going to risk your life just for a cure." 

"'Just for a cure?'" Ran's eyes widened. "Shinichi, I'm talking about getting your _life_ back! You told me--" 

"I know what I said." Blue eyes pinned her with a gaze far too steely for a little boy. "But I won't trade you for a cure. If it came down to choosing between your life and the antidote to APTX 4869, I'd spend the rest of my life like this." 

She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her, seeing the depth of his determination in that unwavering stare. "But...I want _you_ to be happy..." 

His gaze, which had been almost frightening in its intensity, softened as he smiled faintly. "I'm happy when you're safe," he said. "Please, don't do more than what you've already been doing--you've been a big help just being a Neechan and looking out for me." 

"I don't want to be your Neechan, I want to be--" It slipped out before she caught herself, an almost petulant phrase. She blushed, looking down. 

Surprisingly, he seemed to understand, blushing a little as he glanced away. "I know. And I'd rather not be a little kid. Can't do much about that problem when I'm like this..." 

"I don't care what size you are!" she blurted. "You're still Shinichi--you said so yourself. I don't care what age you are, because I know you're still you." 

"Ran...you have to know there might not even _be_ a permanent cure. _This_ might be me _forever_--Conan Edogawa. Always ten years behind you. I can't ask you to wait that long for me--" 

"Who says it has to be ten years?" 

"Even eight? At the very least six? You'd be twenty-three, twenty-five, off to college and starting a career of your own...and I'd still be in junior high, not even able to get a summer job yet..." 

"That's just a worst-case scenario!" she protested. "You're such a pessimist! Of _course_ you'll find a cure--why wouldn't you? You can find anything--you're the Great Detective Shinichi Kudo! You've never lost before--you've _always_ caught the culprit!" 

_Such faith in me..._ "But what if I _don't?_ Ran, I might _never_ be cured. There's the possibility that..." His voice choked--it was a prospect he didn't like thinking about himself. "...that I might always be..." 

"I don't _care!_" Ran's sudden hiss startled him into silence. She was close to him once more, something desperate in her eyes, _both_ hands reaching for him this time. One caught his shoulder again, the other his cheek, turning his face up to hers. He could taste her breath again as she leaned near, so warm and sweet and full of _Ran_... 

In a single jolting instant he realized what she intended to do--and violently rebelled. 

Amidst his grunt and her sharp cry, he heaved backward, exerting all his strength to pull free of her grip. He ended up crouched on his knees just out of her arms' reach, staring wildly at her--and feeling his heart clench at the sudden raw _pain_ in her eyes. 

"No...I'm sorry--Ran, please..." he panted. "Please...not like this--not _Conan_...I'm so sorry...please--let me be _me_..." 

His rejection hurt her badly. Shocked and rebuffed, tears were already rolling down her cheeks. Her voice was faint, tremulous, like a punished child's. "But..." 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...!" he repeated desperately, reaching out to her now. "I'm sorry, Ran--I didn't mean--I just--!" 

She seemed to withdraw, arms wrapped around herself. "But...you _are_ you," she whispered through her tears. 

"Please...Ran...I'm sorry..." Desperate to stop her pain, he drew closer, on his knees, gripping her shoulder with one small hand. "Please--Saturday, I will--I promise...please..." 

She just sat there quietly for a long time, her face hidden behind her hair, her shoulders shaking slightly. When she finally glanced up, the look in her eyes made him wince. 

"Can't you understand how I feel?" she asked again, for the second time that night. She still cried, but she didn't lose her words to sobs. "If it were me...if I were like you and you were still the way you were before...wouldn't you understand?" 

_If she were..._ He swallowed hard, cringing from her painful gaze. If he were still seventeen, and Ran had suddenly been turned into the little girl from his memories and their parents' photographs... 

He would be shocked, terrified, dismayed. He would want to protect her from every danger, any threat. He would want to show her how much she still meant to him, no matter what size or shape. He would want to tell her that ten years didn't matter, not with how much he... 

"God, sometimes I can't believe you even put up with me," he mumbled, hardly able to find the right words. "Why? I'm such an idiot--a selfish, stupid idiot. I keep hurting you, but you keep caring. You just keep _being there_ for me, no matter what--and I don't deserve any of it...but that's why I love you so much..." 

She gasped at about the same moment he realized precisely what he'd just said--his breath caught and he stiffened, face going red as he suddenly looked a little bit crazed. "Oh God, I just--I really said it, didn't I? I finally really _said_ it..." he croaked with a short, self-conscious laugh. "For the longest time I've wanted to," he rambled in strange nervous relief, "but I'm such a goddamn perfectionist I always wanted it to be done _just right_, in a romantic setting with candlelight, at just the right moment--I wanted to tell you with my real voice, and I just blurted it out while I'm like this--" 

With a wordless little cry, she threw her arms around him, startling him as she pulled him close. Her shoulders shook as if with silent sobs; he held very still, half on instinct and half out of alarm, eyes wide in near-panicked concern. "Ran, I'm sorry--dammit, I screwed it up! I wanted to do it _right_--I never make you happy, all I do is make you cry--" 

"Shinichi, you stupid..." Her voice was strange--almost light, though trembling. "You _silly...!_" 

She pulled back to meet his eyes, almost cradling him--he'd been pulled half into her lap, and now looked up at her with wide, startled eyes. He suddenly realized she was almost laughing, even though there were tears running down her cheeks. "Ran...?" 

"You think...I'd be upset if it wasn't done _right?_" she all but demanded, fixing him with her tearful, happy glare. "I'm just glad I heard those words...no matter how you said them. As long as it's the truth..." 

He was red as a tomato but nodded vigorously, gulping. 

She sniffled, pulling him close again--and this time, his small arms wrapped warmly around her neck, the very best hug he could give her at this point. He wished it were _his_ arms encircling her so completely, but...blushing, he held on tight. 

Spoken close to his ear with soft warm breath, her whisper made him blush even more--and made his heart spin with wild joy as her short, near-silent reply told him she felt the same. 

He knew she did; he'd known since the beginning, ever since the night Conan was "born"...but she was right--somehow, hearing it truly said made all the difference. Her voice, her eyes, her touch made it _real_. He just held on to her, overwhelmed by emotion that choked off his voice--not that he had anything adequate to say anyway--and made his heart beat fast with fierce rapture. 

He'd thought this moment was imperfect, insufficient--she deserved so much better than this. There were no candles, no romance, no happy smiles and mellow voices, no Shinichi at his proper size--just a bedside lamp, hurt feelings and forgiveness, tears of mixed sorrow and gladness, a little boy with trembling hands and a young man's heart. In the dimness of her bedroom, dressed only in their pajamas and with voices hushed to avoid discovery--it was far from his dream of the perfect setting in which to reveal his true feelings. Not on such a turbulent day as this, in an utterly imperfect moment--unexpected, unplanned. 

But the imperfect moment was made perfect by her love. 

"You don't have to torture yourself so much," Ran said softly into the silence, sniffling. "You don't always have to be cool and smart and wonderful. You're still my Shinichi even when you're at your worst...even if you mess up--isn't today a good enough example? I'll always forgive you...oh...Shinichi, you're shaking so hard--what's wrong?" 

"Nothing," he said, choked by the lump in his throat. "Nothing's wrong...I'm just glad..." 

A gentle tug on her part was all it took to make him release his hold on her. She pulled back to look into his face, supporting him in a gentle grip. He was still trembling with emotion, cheeks flushed, small hands clutching her forearms with surprising strength. His blue eyes were bright and round, glimmering with a noticeable hint of unshed tears, shining with unquestionable gladness. 

She saw _Shinichi_ in those eyes--raw and unmasked, deep and complex, neither innocent child nor confident detective. She saw, through the distress and fear and joy and affection, the young man she knew and loved, every facet of him; talented, friendly, brilliant, kind, occasionally dense but usually perceptive, cynical, uncertain, outgoing, gifted with keen observation and near-perfect recall, self-assured and self-doubting, selfish and selfless, brusque, meticulous, posessed of vast eclectic knowledge, sometimes arrogant or moody, always willing to help those in need, ready to sacrifice so much for those he loved...but so unsure of himself... 

"Don't give up," she whispered, her slight smile lit by soft light from the lamp. "I know you won't lose to those Black guys..._I_ won't give up on you--so don't _you_ dare give up on _yourself_. You'll get through this, even if it takes years--but it won't, because I know you can do _anything_ when you really try..." 

Shinichi gazed up into her eyes, amazed. Her face was still marked by tears but there was undeniable happiness written all over her. Despite all that he'd done, all his lies and deceptions and everything he'd put her through, she _still_ cared. Ran seemed so strong, as if _she_ were the one protecting _him_; perhaps she was, warding off the guilt and self-reproach she knew he often inflicted on himself--sometimes for very little reason, sometimes for the wrong reason. He swallowed hard, trying to clear that lump, but it just wouldn't go away; her loving trust kept it locked there in his throat, because her words meant so much... 

_She has so much faith...so much **love**...she believes in me, even when I can't believe in myself... How can I let her down? I **have** to find the cure...I **have** to beat the Black Organization...if I don't, I'll never be worthy of her devotion. Shouldn't I have at **least** as much faith as her...? Even though her faith is so much stronger than mine..._

Something in his expression must have changed; she seemed suddenly happier, relieved, as she spoke to him. "There's that smile...I knew you were okay. Don't you feel better now?" 

"Um...yeah..." he croaked, blinking. _Jeeze...I come in to check on her and she ends up the one cheering **me** up..._

"That's the way," she said, with one last sniffle and brightening eyes. "The Shinichi _I_ know would _never_ leave a case half-finished, especially one as important as this. If you give up on yourself--and on _us_, then I really _will_ hit you." 

Shinichi couldn't help but laugh, a soft quick snort. "You always did know when to beat some sense into me." 

"I can tell exactly when you need it," she replied lightly. 

His expression softened. "Thanks, Ran. I came here to see you and help you feel better, but you're the one who's saving _me_, as usual." 

"Well, if you didn't keep getting yourself into these predicaments..." she joked, giggling softly--and they both broke out into quiet chuckles, muffled to try and keep from waking Kogoro or any of the neighbors. 

The tension eased amidst their laughter; the last vestiges of the reserve that had hovered between them melted away. The truth was out now, all of it, from Conan's identity to their long-hidden feelings. There were no more secrets between them--none save one, and that one was less a secret and more just a subject Shinichi hadn't wanted to bring up yet. 

As the soft chuckles died away, normalcy began to take hold again and their surroundings became a part of their world once more. Time seemed to start again; they began to become aware of the dimness of Ran's bedroom, the clock and the lateness of the hour, the closeness of their near-embrace. At about the same moment, they both realized their relative positions and blushed, giving each other embarassed glances that only increased the giggles a bit. Without thinking, Ran had gathered Shinichi into her lap during their embrace, and over the course of their intimate conversation he had not noticed or resisted the comfortable cuddle. 

It was somewhat awkward for Ran, even if holding "Conan" was perfectly safe and familiar. But her perception had changed--she knew it was Shinichi who inhabited the small body in her arms. She was holding him so close--they'd never been so near when he was in his true shape. And she couldn't very well yell at him for touching her--after all, _she'd_ been the one who grabbed _him_, really... 

They were _both_ blushing as Ran carefully lifted Shinichi from her lap, setting him gently back on the bed. Suddenly self-conscious, he smiled uneasily and scratched his head. "Uh, thanks," he said honestly, grateful she'd spared him the major indignity of clambering out of her lap, trading it for the minor indignity of being lifted. "Um...Ran...I..." 

"I meant what I said, Shinichi Kudo," she said, looking into his eyes--_only_ his eyes, not choosing to look at the form he wore. "All of it. Every word." 

He gulped. "M-me too," he assured her. "Even if I don't act like it sometimes...but you know I'm an idiot..." 

"But I forgive you," she whispered, with a growing smile. "Even if I get angry." 

"Ran..." 

"It's getting too late to talk about these things. Let's sleep on it, shall we?" Her eyes were brilliant now, free of tears or sadness. He was so captivated by them he barely moved when her gentle hands captured his face, holding him still--or when she leaned close again, her gaze full of secret mystery. He was so startled, once he finally _realized_, that he didn't even have time to think of resisting before she placed a soft, fleeting kiss on his forehead, her lips barely brushing him. 

Wide-eyed and flushing, he gaped at her as she released him. She giggled at his gawk, reaching out to ruffle his hair and wake him from his petrified stare. He jerked at her touch, discomfited, but only looked down, cheeks crimson. 

"There," she said firmly. "Ran-neechan's compensation for the down payment Conan-kun gave her--that night _we_ made our promise." 

"Ran--" 

"Shhh. If it has to do with _that_, tell me on Saturday." She yawned suddenly, almost surprising herself. After all the stress they'd been through that day, a good night's sleep was the wisest choice at this point. "Shinichi...we've got another beautiful day ahead of us--Sunday, a perfect day for a new start, don't you think?" 

With a deep breath, he finally seemed to relax a bit. "Yeah, you're right. Let's start again tomorrow." _And see how we'll survive the rest of my life as Conan...but as long as we're together, I can make the best of it..._ With a scoot, he dropped lightly to the floor, pausing to slip on his scuffs. When he turned back to her, she was holding out his neatly-folded glasses with a gentle smile. 

He put them on, and once again Shinichi slid behind the mask of Conan--but a mask that certain special people saw through. "Thanks. Good night, Ran. Sleep well. I...I love you..." His last words were whispered and stuttering, but heartfelt. 

Ran's eyes lit beautifully. "I love you too, Shinichi...good night." 

Shinichi swallowed, finding it suddenly hard to look away--to turn around and _leave_. When she'd heard him speak, and when she gazed at him that way and told him... 

Shaking himself, he turned away, almost hurrying out the door and closing it quietly behind him. 

When he was gone, Ran got up and pulled back her covers, sliding into bed. Her eyes were filled with tears again, but this time they were a much happier variety--and didn't last nearly as long before she slipped gently into sweet dreams of Shinichi and the hope of next Saturday's promised fulfillment. 

* * * * *

The phone was ringing. 

That in itself was not odd, but the fact that it was ringing at seven AM on a Sunday morning _was_. Even Conan, the early riser of the Mouri Detective Agency, was not usually up at that hour on a weekend. 

_Usually_, of course. This Sunday was something of an exception; given the emotional events of the previous day and the anticipation of new and unpredictable prospects for today, he was already somewhat awake by the time the telephone started ringing. 

However, that's not to say he was _pleased_ about having to answer the phone at this hour. He hadn't even had any toast yet. 

Yawning and stumbling and shoving his glasses onto his face, Conan shuffled rapidly to the phone, rather annoyed with the caller. _Jeeze, who could it be at this hour? If it's not me, I can't imagine who would call at a time like this..._

He picked up the receiver, scratching at his head and slipping into a sleepy version of his Conan-voice. "Mouri Detective Agency," he yawned. 

"Shinichi. Listen up, this is important." 

In a blink, sleepy Conan was gone--replaced by a shocked and very awake Shinichi. "_Dad?_" 

"Yes, it's me--" 

"Where the hell have you been?" Shinichi almost shrieked, wanting to yell but for one angry, bewildered instant completely forgetting that he spoke with a little boy's voice--which was prone to go soprano under stress. "I called and no one answered! Where are you, and is Mom with you--?" 

"Yes, and we're here in Japan--" 

For the moment, Shinichi seemed to have forgotten where he was--and _who_ he was. "You mean you're _home?_ When did you get in? Why didn't you tell me you were coming? Dammit, Dad, I tried and tried to contact you--!" 

"Be quiet and listen." Yuusaku cut him off with startlingly severe tones. 

Shinichi went silent with a short gasp; he'd known his father to be short at times, but _never_ had he been spoken to in such a sharp, perfunctory manner. 

"Your mother and I are here at the house," Yuusaku went on, his words unwavering. "I want you here by eight--make whatever excuses you need to." 

"_What--?_" 

"No questions--do as I say. Make sure you're here by eight AM. Alone. And don't be late--we have things to discuss." 

"Dad, what are you--?" 

"Eight o'clock, Shinichi." With that, his father hung up the phone, leaving Shinichi with a dead line and no answers--again. 

"Dammit..." Shinichi all but slammed the phone back into the cradle, teeth gritted angrily. A noise behind him startled him, and he jumped around like a guilty thief. 

Ran was standing there in her pajamas, recently-awakened but alert, her eyes full of worry. "Shinichi...that was...your father? What is he...?" 

Shinichi gulped; the sight of her drowned his current aggravation with memories of the night before, faintly heating his face. "Yeah," he admitted, getting a handle on his emotions with an effort; what a double whammy right after getting up--his dad's phone call, and the memory of _Ran_... "He wants to see me. Very soon." He glanced at the clock. "At eight." 

"You sound upset," she observed softly, brows pinched with concern. "What is it?" 

"Um...it's some family stuff," he told her hesitantly. "It has to do with Kaito and me..." 

"Your cousin...?" She cut off with a gasp. "Kuroba-kun _knows_, doesn't he?" 

"He does. He knows all about Conan, and that's part of it, but..." 

"But?" 

"I need to go get dressed..." Shinichi hunched his shoulders and headed for the door. "I've got to be there soon, and I want to grab some breakfast first." 

"Shinichi...you told me there would be no more lies." 

He winced, pausing. "I know. And there won't be. I'm sorry...but I really need to talk to my parents first. This is something...a lot more personal. It doesn't have much to do with Conan, so...it's not something I'm _hiding_ from you. Okay?" 

Ran regarded him for several moments, considering...then softened, relenting--no doubt recalling her own memories of the previous night. "Okay. I'll even whip you up something warm to eat before you go--I'd hate for you to have to face your folks on an empty stomach." 

"Thanks, Ran." He smiled gratefully as he headed out, going straight to his room to prepare. _Sunday, a new day...so much for starting again... Dammit, Dad, do you always have to do this to me?_

He was not looking forward to confronting the man behind the sharp voice on the telephone. But if it meant he could get some answers at last, then face his father he would. 

* * * * *

Kaito yawned and tugged at his collar, none too pleased about being stuck on a public bus with his mother this early on Sunday morning. And dressed like this, no less; his very best clothes, a shirt and tie with a woolen vest and ironed slacks--things he only wore for the most special of occasions, if ever. Normally he saw no need for such decorum on a weekend, but his mother had insisted--at about the same time she was rolling him out of bed and fixing him breakfast. Kaito, moving but not quite awake, hadn't been conscious enough to protest his attire at the time. 

But now he _was_ awake and unable to protest, seated beside his mother--who was also dressed in her best--on a rather empty bus rolling through Tokyo to somewhere he hadn't been quite alert enough to process when they boarded. Yawning cavernously now and again, he picked uncomfortably at his sweater vest and fidgeted. He hated dressing up like this; formal clothes made him feel awkward and out of place. 

"Sit still, you're going to mess up your hair," his mother admonished softly, nudging him. 

"Yes, Mom..." he sighed, pouting stubbornly. Like it made much difference anyway--his mother had cornered him after breakfast and firmly combed his mane down, but it was already working itself back into its usual shaggy mess. Before his unruly locks fought their way loose from the stern brushing, he had looked eerily like Shinichi in the bathroom mirror...but then again, he mused, Shinichi would probably look like _him_ if his hair were messed up. 

"Mom, if you had to go to a meeting or something, couldn't I just stay home and sleep?" he complained once again, yawning. "It's Sunday, for pete's sake..." 

"Hush," Fumiyo scolded. "This is very important. I want you on your best behavior, too--none of your tricks and gags, understand?" 

Noting her seriousness, he nodded smartly; his mother was one of the few people who held his utmost respect--when she spoke, he obeyed. 

"Ah, we're almost there," Fumiyo announced softly, as the bus began to slow down. When it stopped, she rose and headed to the front, followed by her yawning son. Kaito politely helped her step down, then blinked around at the bus stop as the vehicle pulled away. 

"Hey, I think I've been here before..." he muttered. "Mom, isn't this Beika?" 

"Alright, the walk isn't too far," his mother told him, checking her watch as they began to stroll down the sidewalk. "But we _are_ a little early--we're supposed to be there at nine, so we might stop and get a coffee to pass the time." 

Kaito began to recognize his surroundings, frowning slightly. "What are we doing in Beika, anyway?" A frightening suspicion began to grow in his mind. 

"It's a very important meeting," Fumiyo said, looking down. "We can't be late, but we also musn't be too early." 

"But...what's in Beika that you--?" Something _clicked_, and Kaito's suspicion became a full-blown suggestion. "Mom--it's Ojisan, isn't it? He's _here?_" 

Fumiyo didn't answer. 

"Ojisan made this 'appointment?'" Kaito demanded. "For what? To ream me out for taking up Dad's torch? To yell at _you_ for letting me? To--" His eyes widened. "Wait, why can't we be too early? Nine o'clock...?" 

His mother still didn't answer him, but the look on her face was painful enough. 

Kaito stopped dead on the sidewalk when realization struck. "It's not nine yet--he probably got Shinichi there before us, so he can--" His teeth gritted, his hands fisting angrily. "He's got Shinichi cornered alone for this, and he'll--dammit, _no!_" 

Fumiyo gasped in protesting surprise when Kaito suddenly bolted. Not waiting to explain or stopping to obey her calls for him to stop, he sprinted off down the sidewalk, face set and determined. Closing his ears to his mother's worried shouts, he silently apologized to her for his insolence and kept running, heading for the Kudo house. It would only take him a few minutes to get there at this pace, and he would be _very_ early. 

He only hoped it would be early enough to help. He wouldn't let Shinichi face this alone, not when they had agreed to work together. After all, they were family--and more than that, they were _friends_. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Wow, this one's one of the hardest chapters I've had to write. Sorry for the delay! @_@ I'm nervous about this one... Hope it reads well! File 13's coming as quick as I can write it--more intense stuff ahead (and more Kaito, for everyone who asked!). Seeya then!_


	13. Tug of War

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 13: Tug of War**

Shinichi stood, head down, in the middle of the living room floor, having just given a compulsorily detailed account of his past and present associations with his cousin, Kaito Kuroba. Everything, from his first attempt to capture Kaitou Kid to their recent interactions and alliance was eventually forced out of him by the stern, acute, pointed questioning of his father, Yuusaku Kudo. And from the grim, dissatisfied look on Yuusaku's face, he was none too pleased with the information his son had given him. 

Shinichi couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this; he'd been small, like he was now, and _truly_ young--and in trouble for something major, though right now he couldn't recall what that was, or if it had been anything close to this. He wished fervently that Ai _had_ given him that pill--at least then, he wouldn't be feeling so little and loomed-over. He could have faced his father eye to eye. 

As Yuusaku stood frowning down at his son, Yukiko sat on the living room couch, uncharacteristically silent, hands folded in her lap and eyes tightened with worry. She hadn't said anything more than muted greetings when Shinichi had arrived, and had since retreated to her seat with atypical quiet that totally unnerved her son. 

This was far from the usual reception Shinichi had come to expect from his parents; as they were now, he felt almost like a stranger in his own home. His father had never treated him so sternly--always before their lectures were tempered with laughter, their scowls with hidden smiles. Never had he been stared down so grimly. 

"And Friday night is the very last time you saw him?" Yuusaku asked after a few moments, having reached the conclusion of his questioning. 

"Yes," Shinichi answered quickly. 

Yuusaku briefly paced across the living room floor, mulling the information he'd received. "Well then?" he asked sharply, facing the boy once more. "What have you decided?" 

Shinichi looked up at him, confused. "Decided...?" 

"I'm asking what your decision is. What have you decided in regards to Kaito's offer?" 

"I'm...not sure yet," the boy admitted with a gulp. "We've only just sort of...compared notes, and agreed that...something has to be done and maybe we could do it. We haven't discussed the particulars yet..." 

"You _do_ realize what will happen if you go along with him," Yuusaku put in. 

"What do you mean?" Shinichi glanced up at his father again--damn, he hated feeling so small! 

"Are you prepared to become a thief and an outlaw?" Yuusaku demanded, eyes hardening. "Because that's what will happen if you agree to 'join forces' with Kaito. You're already putting yourself in danger merely by associating with him--" 

"_What?_" 

Yuusaku's glare did not abate. "Toichi's family is already under past suspicion by your enemy--suspicion which has increased now that Kaitou Kid has returned to action. By linking yourself to him, not only will your identity be uncovered, but the fact that you are still alive will be revealed--as will your connection to the Kurobas. Are you willing to put your family, friends, and integrity at risk simply to join that boy's game?" 

"Game?" Shinichi's frown became a true scowl, and behind Conan's glasses his eyes narrowed. "Is that all his efforts are to you? A _game?_ He's working his ass off to bring _your brother's_ murderers to justice! And all you say is--!" 

"Do not take that tone with me, young man," Yuusaku cut in sharply. 

Shinichi's jaw shut, but his expression set stubbornly. Now openly glaring, he held his tongue but did not back down. 

"I'm not trying to be an ogre, here," Yuusaku said, his voice softening just a little. "I'm understandably concerned about my son's safety. The things that I did...were to protect you and your mother. I didn't want you involved with my family's enemies, but by chance you involved _yourself_." 

"I wish I'd _never_ followed those bastards at Tropical Land--" Shinichi muttered, only to be interrupted by his father again. 

"No, that's only part of it," Yuusaku explained. "You've drawn attention to yourself from the moment you began solving so many impossible crimes. Tropical Land was only your first direct confrontation." 

Shinichi's eyes went wide; gaping, he said nothing, waiting for his father to continue. 

"So now I try my best to keep you secure and hidden, and still allow you to seek your justice and cure instead of taking you away to safety," Yuusaku went on. "As long as you remained Conan, and kept barely scratching the surface, you wouldn't come to any harm. But working with Kaito will put you at too much risk--I should've brought you to America from the first, and spared us all this nonsense..." 

"Nonsense?" Shinichi breathed, stung. "All I've done...all I've worked for...is...nonsense...?" 

"Shin-chan..." Yukiko whispered, covering her mouth in sympathy. 

Yuusaku's introspective look vanished as he gazed directly at his son. "It would be in your best interests to decline Kaito's offer and break off any contact with him. The closer you are to him, the closer you are to _them_." 

Shinichi's hands fisted. "No way!" 

Taken aback, Yuusaku's hands dropped to his sides. For only a moment he was startled at Shinichi's defiance, before his anger returned. "You don't have any idea--!" 

"No, _you_ don't!" the little boy snarled, sounding more like his old self than he ever had before. "You've been gallivanting around in America with Mom, having a grand old time--you have no idea what I've been going through! And _don't_ say you watch me, 'cause you're hardly ever _home_--just when something big might be breaking, or your little secret might be revealed! And you don't know what Kaito's been through either! You've never even _talked_ to him!" His face was a picture of pure anger, not comical in the slightest even with the form he wore. 

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," Yuusaku gritted right back. "I know plenty--I know that Kaito could have the whole Organization come down on his head at any moment. You think they don't know Kaitou Kid had a son? You think they don't know who might be behind the latest heists?" 

"It's a risk he's willing to take!" Shinichi shot back. "He won't let them get away with what they've done! He's doing more than _you_ ever did--all you did was pack up your wife and kid and _run_ for it! And you lied and hid--!" 

"Would you rather _I_ be dead right now?" Yuusaku demanded. "And perhaps your mother with me? Would you rather be an orphan, living with the Kurobas on what little would be left of our money, always in danger of being murdered simply because of who you are?" 

"Hey, that might not've been so bad," came a new voice--breathless, young, but undeniably familiar. 

Yuusaku stared at the teenage boy standing in the doorway, while Yukiko shot straight to her feet with a strange little cry of realization and recognition. Shinichi whirled to see the newcomer, his face lighting up. "Kaito!" 

Panting, Kaito Kuroba wiped sweat from his chin and grinned, looking the small boy right in the eye. _I'm with you,_ his gaze seemed to say, almost as clearly as if he'd spoken it aloud. Then Kaito's eyes slid up to regard Yuusaku, and he readied himself for confrontation; shoulders straightening, Poker Face sliding into place, he stepped into the room with what appeared to be utmost confidence, pulling up alongside Shinichi. 

"Hello, Ojisan," Kaito said softly, politely, to the man who stood staring at him. "Nice to finally meet you." 

For a few moments, the house rang with an agonizing silence so thick it almost hurt the ears, could almost be _felt_ in the air. Yuusaku was pale, as if he were standing face to face with a ghost--a phantom of his own past, a living image of his brother in their younger days. Their eyes locked, the same piercing blue gaze that marked their bloodline; one was sharpened by disbelief, the other masked by studied indifference. 

Shinichi gulped through a suddenly sandpaper-parched throat, silent witness to this uncomfortable first meeting...and for all his knowledge and intelligence, he had no way of predicting how this encounter would go. He hoped--he _prayed_ that it wouldn't turn any more painful and bitter than things already were. 

"Kaito...?" Yuusaku's voice was a dry whisper of sound. The way he spoke, it seemed as if he couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing--as if the youth before him were merely a figment of his own imagination. 

Kaito seemed to brighten just a little at the acknowledgement, but his Poker Face didn't slip. He wouldn't let it--not now, not yet. Not with what they faced. "Sorry for messing up your appointments, Ojisan...but I thought this shouldn't wait." 

Yuusaku took a sharp breath, remembering their purpose here; reality flooded in again, halting his incredulous stare, bringing him back in control of his emotions. Shinichi saw his father's own version of the Poker Face slip over his eyes--a stern, humorless expression, as opposed to Kaito's neutral, almost amused look. Kaito saw the change, and shifted to accomodate; the amused look vanished, replaced by wariness--gearing for the battle of wills ahead. 

"I guess you're mad at Shinichi," Kaito began, speaking almost pleasantly, his usual unruffled tones. "You really shouldn't take it out on him--after all, the whole thing was my idea. If you want to get upset at someone, then get upset at me. I'm the one who chose to drag him into this." 

The challenge did not go unnoticed; Yuusaku's eyes tightened. "You've got a lot of nerve destroying what took me years to build." 

"I know," Kaito acknowledged, still conversational. "That big thick wall of secrets and lies you built--I can see how you'd hate to have that torn down. Leaves you a little exposed, doesn't it? Also leaves you in the position of explaining to your son that the nice, safe little world you built for him is just a lie." 

If Yuusaku flinched at that, none of them could tell. "I would do anything to protect my family," he said, almost grating. "I will not leave them exposed to the same men who killed Toichi. I had hoped that you of all people would understand that." 

Perhaps Kaito's Poker Face wasn't as strong as Yuusaku's--or perhaps he was more vulnerable to his uncle's barbs. Either way, his expression _did_ darken, becoming something much colder. Shinichi watched silently, feeling rather out of his depth; he was a newbie to this particular battle, where Kaito had been waging the war of secrets at least long enough to know how the game was played. 

"I understand all right," the youth replied, losing none of his even tone despite the darkness in his eyes. "What do you think you've gained, Ojisan? Have Dad's murderers been brought to justice? Have you kept them from attacking your family? You kept Shinichi in ignorance, and look how _safe_ he is now." His quick gesture to the small boy beside him brought sharp focus to Shinichi's problems. 

"How _dare_ you presume to think--!" Yuusaku bit out. 

For some reason, Shinichi got the impression that Kaito had just won Round One. Yuusaku had raised his voice--his mask had cracked. Kaito found an opening and exploited it. 

"How long do you think you could have hidden him?" Kaito asked, his tones turning even more bright now that he knew he had a foothold. "And I don't mean as Conan. The nail that sticks up always gets hammered down, Ojisan--and from what I've seen, Shinichi sticks up as much as I do. Maybe even more. Do you think _they_ would have just let him go?" 

"Even if he was already under surveillance, he would at least be safe from suspicion," Yuusaku replied, getting a handle on himself again. "If they couldn't connect him to Kuroba, they wouldn't connect him to Kid." 

"Anyone who has _eyes_ could do that, _Ojisan_," Kaito drawled, exaggerating the indifference of his tone to hide the pain he felt. Looking at his uncle was like looking at his father again--slightly different, yes, but the mirrorlike image was the same as the one he and Shinichi shared. "And besides that, I don't think Shinichi would meekly keep his head down and his mouth shut even if you told him to. Would you, Shinichi?" 

Having Kaito's eyes suddenly turn to him made Shinichi take a step back. "Um...huh...?" 

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have just ignored what the Black Organization was up to, would you? Even if you _didn't_ follow those guys at Tropical Land, you'd still want to catch the crooks--you'd eventually get mixed up in it." 

Shinichi gulped and nodded. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "I know I just couldn't let them keep doing whatever they wanted..." 

"At the cost of your life?" Yuusaku demanded. "Shinichi, you know better! You're no good to anyone when you're _dead!_" 

"Yuusaku!" Yukiko's voice was sudden and sharp, almost plaintive and warning--and it brought her husband's ire to a stop. "Please..." 

"Don't worry, Obasan," Kaito said, much more gently than when he spoke to Yuusaku. "He's right, after all. Ending up dead doesn't help anyone...least of all the ones we love." 

Yuusaku's flinch was at last visible--the anger and tension was somehow broken, and softer feelings could begin to emerge. "That was Toichi's mistake. Kaito...he...he pushed too hard. He went too far. By being that nail that sticks up too much, he made himself too big a target. I tried to warn him, but..." 

"Jii told me," Kaito said simply, hiding the pain behind his mask. 

The short silence that followed was interrupted by a soft, brief knock on the house's front door. Everyone jumped, not really expecting company; to relieve the ensuing awkwardness, Shinichi jerked out of his stupor and hurried toward the door. "I'll get it!" he piped, trying to sound halfway cheerful, hustling before anyone could think to stop him. He reached up to pull open the door, standing on tiptoe. 

"Hello," he greeted the worried-looking lady standing on the doorstep. "Can I help you?" 

She looked down at him in surprise, then blinked, her eyes filling with _something_ that made him gulp and hesitate. "I'm...looking for Kaito Kuroba," she said uncertainly, looking confused herself. 

"Oh...um...he's inside," Shinichi told her. "Come in." 

The woman stepped in the door, politely removing her shoes and following the little boy down the hall and into the living room. Shinichi was surprised to see his mother lurch to her feet yet again, her whole face lighting up as she rushed across the room to the newcomer. 

"Fumiyo-chan! I'm so glad...!" 

"Yukiko-chan..." The two women embraced once more, ever glad to see one another again. The menfolk remained rather surprised, watching them. Both Yuusaku and Kaito broke out of their uncomfortable stare; Yuusaku frowned but remained silent, and Kaito suddenly looked abashed. "Oh, Mom...uh...sorry for leaving you behind back there..." 

"You'd better have behaved yourself, young man," Fumiyo told him seriously. 

Yukiko patted her arm comfortingly. "There there, he was a perfect gentleman." 

"That's...your mom," Shinichi stated rather dumbly, glancing up at Kaito with wide eyes. 

"Yeah." Kaito continued to look rather sheepish. "I sorta ran off and left her when I figured your dad was reaming you out for this..." 

"Not really," Shinichi replied, watching the two women speak softly to one another. "He was just asking me--" 

"What his decision was regarding your offer," Yuusaku broke in, suddenly standing next to the two. 

Confronting Yuusaku again, Kaito's mask returned, while Shinichi made a monumental effort not to look startled. The two mothers quieted their soft greeting chatter, and Fumiyo's eyes grew wide. 

Shinichi's brows drew down. "Dad, I told you--" 

"And _I_ told _you_, son," Yuusaku interjected firmly. "The consequences you'll face if you go with him--" 

"They wouldn't be nearly as hard as what I'd face _alone_, would they?" Shinichi demanded, his voice suddenly stronger. 

"My dad was alone," Kaito murmured softly, his voice edged with whispering steel and his eyes fixed upon his uncle's face. 

Round Two--and the point went to Kaito once again. Yuusaku froze, caught in a moment of pain so raw it was palpable--both boys could see the flinch, the anguish, before it was masked by a cold anger that chilled Shinichi to look upon. His father seemed to have become a completely different person in that instant--someone full of hidden resentment, rage, remorse, regret; someone who was dark and harsh with enduring grief and guilt. 

Shinichi gulped, unable to force his voice to work; almost frightened, he looked to Kaito for support and found, to his surprise and unease, that Kaito's expression held its own brand of sorrow and suffering, hidden deep inside those darkened blue eyes. The small boy was out of his league again, both at masks and at memories--he'd never been through the pain that these two had. 

Both Yukiko and Fumiyo were utterly silent, as wide-eyed as Shinichi; the staring contest between the two males filled the room with tension...until something burst--Yuusaku's expression tightened down again, and his voice rapped out sharp and quick. 

"I believe this discussion is over," he said, his order encompassing everyone present whether they'd had part in the "discussion" or not. "I didn't come here to negotiate--I came to settle this problem and see to it that my family is kept safe. Shinichi..." 

"Y-yes Dad?" Shinichi stepped up to a safe distance, eyes wide in his small face. 

"How long would it take you to pack your things at Mouri's?" 

"About twenty minutes if I--" He blinked. "Wait a second--Dad, you're not saying--!" 

"We can be back to Hawaii in no time if we take the flight out at five PM," Yuusaku continued. "At this point it's the safest place to be. Get your things together, and make whatever excuses to Ran and Mouri that you have to--just do it quickly." 

Shinichi's expression hovered for a moment between abject horror and sheer panic, and his voice went shrill with frantic denial. "Dad, _no!_" 

"Yuusaku--!" Yukiko breathed, struck to the core by the raw _plea_ in her son's tone. 

"And _you_..." Yuusaku rounded on the still-impassive Kaito. "As a responsible uncle, I ought to be collecting Toichi's equipment this very minute and shutting down your little game. But you're not my son, and I suppose it's not my decision if you've made up your mind to die the same way your father did. You can go ahead and earn death for your mother and your friends, but if your trail leads back to my son in any way I _will_ see to it that you eternally regret it. I haven't protected Shinichi for seventeen years just to see him sentenced to death by a selfish, vengeful young fool!" 

Fumiyo's gasp seemed louder than it actually was; apart from greetings, the dark-haired woman had refrained from commenting on the argument itself, nor had she addressed the subject matter of the unraveling discussion. No one had expected her to react so. 

"You're right, Ojisan," Kaito replied smoothly, unflinching. "It's not your decision to make. I've been the man of my house for a long time now, and you've had nothing to do with it. Although your financial contribution has been...helpful...my mom and I don't really need you or your money. And to hear tell of it, Shinichi doesn't either." 

"Shinichi is _my_ son--don't compare your situation to his," Yuusaku spat. 

"His situation is just that, Ojisan--it's _his_." Kaito cocked an eyebrow; his returning easy mood somehow signaled that he was regaining the upper hand in the argument. "Not yours. Since when have you been a part of his situation? From what I know, for three years now he's been on his own. You've been hiding from book editors and Black operatives in America. I don't see that as a stellar example of fatherhood." His eyes narrowed slightly. "At least _my_ father has a reason for not being around, instead of just cowardice." 

Shinichi whirled on Kaito. "Hey! You watch what you're saying about my--!" 

"How I raise my son is none of your business!" Yuusaku retorted almost viciously. 

"Far as I can tell, he's none of _your_ business either, Ojisan," Kaito replied, deadpan. "I'd say he's old enough to make his own decisions, wouldn't you?" 

Shinichi blinked, gazing at his cousin with a strange, renewed awe. He knew he'd never be able to face down Yuusaku Kudo--not like this. His father was...well..._his father_. The hallowed office of Parent seemed downright unimpeachable, but Kaito's irreverence and sheer gutsiness parried Yuusaku's intensity like a skilled swordsman turns aside a deadly thrust. 

So he gulped and gathered his nerve. "Um...Dad?" he began, loathing his little-boy voice for its tendency to squeak under pressure. "I...I don't want to go to Hawaii." 

Yuusaku's sharp blue gaze switched to him, eliciting an involuntary backward step. "You're willing to risk--?" 

"Someone's got to," Shinichi interjected quickly, before he lost his courage. "Toichi-san...my _ojisan_ risked everything to stop those bastards. And he even did it alone." 

No one missed Yuusaku's second flinch. 

"Maybe being a thief wasn't the right way to do it, but he still _tried_," Shinichi continued, his words growing stronger as moments passed. Beside him, Kaito's presence radiated support and reassurance that he could _feel_, as if his cousin's hand were on his shoulder. "Maybe being a detective isn't the right way either, but I'm trying too. Someone's got to stop them, and maybe Kaito and me together can do something that we couldn't do alone. So I'm...I'm not going to Hawaii, Dad. I can't." 

Yukiko cleared her throat, keeping one arm about Fumiyo. "Yuusaku, _please_..." 

"This is ridiculous." Yuusaku shook his head in near-disgust. "I told you to get your things and get ready! Tell Ran something and--" 

"I'm not lying to her any more!" Shinichi burst out, shouting loud enough that even Kaito jumped. "I _won't_ leave her--not when I promised her--!" 

"She _knows?_" Yuusaku's voice was thunderous, athough he never raised his volume. 

Shinichi recoiled but persevered, even as Kaito turned him an astonished look. "You're damn right she knows about Conan! I told her myself! I won't leave her behind just to save my own skin and I won't lie to her to cover my ass any more!" 

"And I suppose you're going to tell her about _this_, as well?" his father demanded sharply. "About your cousin--and about Kid?" 

Shinichi set his jaw, glancing at Kaito's equally concerned expression. "If she asks me, I won't lie to her. No more lies, no more secrets! Your lies hurt enough--_no more!_" 

"One more life to risk--and to put _you_ at risk!" Yuusaku strode forward, expression fixed. "When will it be enough? How many deaths until you understand? I've risked your mother's life--I won't risk yours! We're going whether you want to or--!" 

"_No!_ Don't touch me!" Shinichi backpedaled from his father's grasp with gritted teeth, small hands fisted in warning. If Yuusaku caught him, forcing him to go to Hawaii was as simple as tucking Conan under his arm. "Don't you dare! If you grab me I swear I'll...I'll--!" 

Kaito abruptly interposed himself between father and son, stopping Yuusaku in his tracks with a keen blue glare. "I think he's made up his mind, Ojisan," the youth stated. 

Yuusaku drew back a step, his voice and emotions once more under iron control. "Stand aside. This doesn't involve you any more." 

"He's my cousin," Kaito replied flatly, in a tone that allowed no argument. "And he's his own man. I choose to stand by the decision he's made. No offense, Ojisan, but I don't think his life's up to you any more." 

"He is my son," Yuusaku said in a quiet, steely voice. "I care about what happens to him, and I won't let him be killed or made a pawn. I refuse to make my brother's mistakes. I won't simply ignore my family and friends to set off on a fool's errand for the sake of my own misguided mission. I won't let my family become a target just to preserve my own notorious reputation--!" 

Shinichi gaped, but Kaito's eyes flashed--and the Poker Face suddenly became a mask of fury as Round Three abruptly degenerated into a verbal brawl. "Ojisan, you just crossed the line! My father was no fool and he wasn't doing it for himself--you have _no right_ to judge him when _you_ ran off with your tail between your legs--!" 

"_That's **enough!**_" 

Two female voices cut through the rising heat of the quarrel like a sword through a straw dummy. Startled, all three males cranked their heads around to stare at the women who now stood--instead of cowering near the door--in the center of the room, hands on hips and sporting identical fed-up expressions. 

All three of them suddenly realized that when all is said and done, men may have their fights but when the women get exasperated, even Hell has a good chance of freezing over. 

Yukiko's eyes were ablaze in a way that Shinichi hadn't seen in ages; with her head high and her shoulders set, she looked just like a beautiful, glorious heroine from one of the movies she'd starred in years ago. Fumiyo stood beside her with a steel-piercing glare, not quite as striking a figure but no less unyielding in expression. Kaito couldn't remember having seen his mother quite so resolute. 

Surprisingly, it was Fumiyo who spoke first, breaking the brittle stillness with firm, quiet words. "I've been silent for ten years now, Yuusaku. I promised Toichi that I wouldn't reveal anything to Kaito until he was ready...and I promised _you_ that I would never disclose the secrets of Kid or yourself to my son. I gave my word that I would never speak of it." She fixed her brother-in-law with a determined gaze. "Kaito has proven himself more than ready, so my promise to my husband is fulfilled. Since my promise to you has become redundant, may I now be released from it?" 

Yuusaku blinked and stared, as if remembering. Mutely he nodded, looking at once both startled and almost admiring. 

"There, now speak your mind, Fumiyo-chan!" Yukiko patted the other woman's shoulder in support. 

Freed from her ten-year vow, Fumiyo took a deep breath, as if setting down a heavy burden. She went to her son and smiled at him. He stared at her, wondering. "M-Mom...?" 

Her dark eyes welled with a mother's love, beyond what mere words can speak. "Kaito...your father would be very proud of you." 

Knowing that she knew and understood _everything_, her simple words alone were enough to make him gulp and choke up. 

Yuusaku frowned. "Fumiyo, don't encourage--" 

Yukiko's lips pursed. "Yuusaku, _darling_, I think you need to cool off for a while, don't you?" It was phrased sweetly, almost a question, but the dangerous flicker in her eyes made her words a rigid command. "Really, I don't think this is getting anywhere. I've held my peace as you asked, but this hasn't been smooth _or_ brief." 

"Yukiko--!" 

"Honey, I think there's been enough said." Though her face seemed as gentle as ever, there was iron in her words and fire in her eyes. As Fumiyo stood beside Kaito, Yukiko moved in next to her and stood at Shinichi's side, one hand touching her son's hair in a mother's unconscious gesture. "This has turned from a discussion to a war, and you're doing nothing but hurting each other. I--_we_ won't stand for it." 

Fumiyo seconded with a nod, while the two boys just stared at their mothers with identical awed expressions. 

"You're still going about this the wrong way," Yukiko continued, soft and serious. "You used to be a phantom thief--you _know_ you can't lock up the people you love like precious jewels in a safe. I told you that before, remember? Right after I got shot..." 

Yuusaku's face contorted briefly once more. "Yukiko, I don't want any of you to--" 

"I know." Her hand stroked Shinichi's hair instinctively, ruffling the soft dark locks. She fully understood how close she'd come to losing her life--and her son--on that terrible night long ago. "And neither do I. But you're _still_ wrong. Running away hasn't solved anything, darling. It's only postponed the inevitable." 

"No." 

"Let it go, Yuusaku," Fumiyo put in quietly. "Toichi couldn't do it alone. Scattered and hidden, we just let them pick us off one by one. They've hurt us too many times--first Yukiko-chan, then Toichi, and now Shin-chan..." She glanced at the small boy, in whose form dwelt her teenage nephew, and drew herself up. "Yuusaku, if you choose to withdraw your financial assistance, I'll understand, but I will continue to support my son and his efforts to stop this organization. And...I'll stand with my nephew as well, if that's what Kaito chooses to do." 

Yuusaku stared at her, surprised at her quiet vehemence. He'd never known his brother's wife to have so much resolve! "Fumiyo...you...?" 

Yukiko smiled at her longtime best friend's strength of will. "Hear hear! Me too--I'm afraid I'll have to agree with Fumiyo-chan on this one, dear. Our boys are all grown up now, and they can make their own decisions. It's time you let Shin-chan...Shinichi...be his own man." 

Yuusaku's gaze shifted to his wife, still struck by the steadfastness of the four who stood opposite him. Even Yukiko's cheerfulness was tempered with a loving tenacity that clearly said she wasn't backing down. 

Shinichi took a breath to speak. His mother's gentle touch was reassuring and familiar; it calmed his overwrought nerves and restored his confidence. "Dad...?" He flinched only a little when his father's blue eyes fixed on him, but continued bravely. "I know you're worried about me, and I really do appreciate your concern. But I can't leave Ran, and Fumiyo-san...um, Obasan's right--I can't just let _them_ have their way. Not after all they've done to me--and to _us_, and to so many people." 

Kaito nodded in full agreement, feeling his own confidence rise when his mother's hand rested on his shoulder. "And I won't let them get away with murdering Dad--and everyone else they've killed," he added. "I'm the one who brought Shinichi into this, Ojisan, and you have my word I'll always be there to back him up." 

Yuusaku found himself faced with fourfold opposition--his wife, son, nephew, and sister-in-law standing together against him. They were fortified by love and resolve, equipped with determination and unity. His plans for shutting down Kaito's heists and whisking Shinichi away into another decade of hiding evaporated before his very eyes, as the four members of his surviving family stared him down with firm resolve. The hardest gaze to bear was Kaito's--blue eyes and youthful face so like his own brother's, as if Toichi were reaching out to scold and implore him from beyond the grave. 

Shoulders sagging, Yuusaku Kudo stepped back. "Fine," he spat bitterly, vexed by his defeat and troubled by thoughts of what might come of it. "Do what you wish, Shinichi. I wash my hands of it. Yukiko, let's go." 

With that, he turned and strode from the room, leaving a relieved silence behind him. Shinichi let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, while Kaito tried a game smile for his mother and aunt to lift everyone's mood. "I suppose that went well," he offered brightly--but his grin vanished when he noticed Shinichi's rather stricken expression, and the frown that darkened Yukiko's brows. 

"Mom...?" Shinichi said, his voice quavering into an unspoken question. 

Yukiko smiled down at him, pushing away her own dark expression. "It's okay, Shin-chan. He's just worried about you. I'll talk to him--don't worry, I won't let him sulk about this for too long." 

"He's gotten more intense than I remember," Fumiyo commented softly, glancing at her friend. 

Yukiko's face flashed serious for but a moment. "Leaving guilt to fester often does that to a man," she replied shortly. 

"I'm sure Ojisan didn't _mean_ for anything bad to happen," Kaito offered, a little hesitantly. "He was just trying to do what he thought was right." 

"A minute ago you were accusing him of abandoning your father," Shinichi remarked, cocking an eyebrow. 

Caught, Kaito shrugged guiltily. "Yeah, but...sometimes what we intend to do and what actually happens are two very different things. A lot of times it doesn't turn out the way we want it to--sometimes it just gets worse." 

For a few awkward moments there was silence between them, as everyone digested the morning's events and resolved them in their hearts. It had not been easy, and nor was it over--not so long as the family remained divided and the Black Organization continued to loom over them all. 

"So now what do we do?" Shinichi ventured at last, looking up to his cousin. 

Kaito appeared thoughtful. "I dunno...I suppose some planning would be a good idea." 

"You had both better do some careful thinking before you decide to do _anything_," Fumiyo cut in firmly, hands on hips. "This isn't a game, Kaito--your lives are on the line. _Both_ of you." 

"That's right," Yukiko agreed. "Think sensibly and use your mind the way you've been taught, Shin-chan. Notice everything, and take nothing for granted." She and Fumiyo smiled briefly at each other before she continued. "The truth is, a detective and a thief aren't that far apart. Wisdom, cunning, awareness, and prudence are essential to both." 

"There's no room for contests, games, or rivalry," Fumiyo concluded, fixing both boys with an equally stern gaze. "There's a lot you can learn from each other--how to observe, what to notice, when to act, how to move." 

Shinichi nodded smartly, wide-eyed, while Kaito raised eyebrows at his mother. "Um, is that something out of the phantom thief's guidebook, Mom?" 

Both Fumiyo and Yukiko giggled, sharing a wink between themselves. "There are things one has to understand when becoming the wife of a thief," Yukiko laughed. 

"Your father taught me some of those things," Fumiyo added. "Yukiko and I had a lot to learn coming into the Kuroba family. If you boys _are_ going to work together, Kaito, you're going to have to teach Shin-chan those things--like how _not_ to get caught." 

Yukiko smiled broadly. "And Shin-chan, you'll have to teach Kaito how to track 'em down and gather evidence for the police. All your work's for naught if they get away in the end." 

"_Mooom_..." both boys groaned in typical teenage fashion. 

Once more, the two women giggled at each other. Kaito and Shinichi found the laughter contagious, and caught themselves smiling. At least they still had the support of their mothers, even if Yuusaku remained angry. 

Through her laughter, Yukiko's eyes were drawn to the door her husband had exited. Fumiyo caught her gaze and quieted. "Yukiko-chan, I think Kaito and I will head home now--you need to settle in after your flight, and I'm sure you're rather tired. Shin-chan, it's...good to see you." Her eyes glistened with understanding as she smiled down at the small boy, awkwardly affectionate. 

"Thanks, um, Obasan," Shinichi replied shyly, ducking his head. "Thanks for being here for me and Kaito." 

"I appreciate you coming, Fumiyo-chan." Yukiko said, smiling brightly and embracing her old friend, then turning cheerfully to her nephew. "And you too, Kaito-kun. It's nice to see you again after such a long time." She gave him a hug and an affectionate kiss on the cheek, eliciting shuffled feet and blushing from the embarrassed teen. "My, how big you've grown! The last time I held you, you were just a little baby...Kai-chan." 

"Aw...if I'd known this is what obasans were like, I'd've stayed home," he mumbled bashfully, red-faced, scratching the back of his head and pointedly ignoring his cousin's grin and his mother's soft giggle. Kaito hadn't really met Yukiko before, but Shinichi and Fumiyo knew her quirks very well indeed. 

"Yukiko-chan, if you _do_ plan on staying for a while," Fumiyo added, "let's get together for tea soon." 

"Great idea! I'll call you," Yukiko replied. 

"I'll see myself out. Goodbye, Yukiko-chan, Shin-chan...come along, Kaito." Fumiyo nodded to each of them and led her son out. Kaito glanced back and, receiving a slight nod from Shinichi, half-smiled in return and went on his way. With his mother on his side, the teen-turned-child would be all right. 

Shinichi sighed when his aunt and cousin were gone, leaving him and his mother alone in the living room. "Well...that's that," he murmured. 

Without guests in the house, Yukiko's usual cheerful demeanor dimmed somewhat. She seemed...tired and concerned as she looked down at her son, more worried than he'd seen her in some time. 

"Mom?" 

Yukiko sighed as well. "I'm fine, Shin-chan. It's just been a trying time for your father and I. This has brought up a lot of old issues, many of which have never been resolved. And it's hard to resolve an old argument when one party is...deceased." 

Shinichi swallowed. "Is Dad okay...?" 

"As okay as he's always been, since then..." Yukiko admitted. "Yuusaku and Toichi were close...and the separation hurt all of us..." She shook herself. "Look, I've got to speak with your father. Why don't you run along? I'm sure Ran-chan's worried--especially if...you said she knows?" 

Shinichi shrugged nervously. "Yeah. I don't know how it happened exactly, but I ended up telling her yesterday. Scariest moment of my life, I think...but I feel a lot better now that I don't have to lie to her..." 

"I'm sure you do." Yukiko knealt down to his eye level, gazing at him with a mother's love. "You still have to be very careful, and you know exactly why...but I trust you know how to handle it yourself. You've done a great job so far." She patted his cheek gently. "I need to talk to my husband now--you go on back to Mouri's, and take care of Ran-chan." 

"Mom...will you be okay? I didn't mean to make Dad mad, I just--" 

"It's not your faut, Shin-chan." Yukiko's voice startled him with its vehemence. "You're a responsible young man...despite appearances...and you're doing what you believe is right. I haven't agreed with Yuusaku about this whole thing for a long time...he's been so guilty about Toichi, and he's trying to make up for it, but I can't let him make his problems yours. Do what you need to do--and don't worry about us." 

"Mom--" 

Yukiko wrapped him in a hug, suddenly and strongly, warm and reassuring. "But..._do_ let us know if you get in over your head? We won't abandon you..._I_ won't abandon you...my Shin-chan..." 

"Mom..." He embraced her in return, using all the strength his little arms could muster as he fought back tears of relief and appreciation. "I have to admit..._everything's_ been 'over my head' lately," he replied wryly, eliciting a chuckle from both of them. "But somehow I manage..." 

"That's my boy." When she released him, he could see that she had shed the tears he hadn't. "Go on now--I'll try to call you tonight. Take care!" 

"Thanks Mom. I love you. And...Dad too." He smiled at her briefly before he hurried out, heading for his shoes, the door--and Ran, who waited for him at the place he now called home. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ ("Alright, she's back in the saddle--!" ***thwap!*** Quiet, Muse--you're the lazy one anyway!) Ahem, er, anyway...sorry for the wait, folks! But I guess I've gotten myself back in gear, so File 14 should be coming soon. _

Now that this little family battle has been hashed out--for the most part--we can get on to the more **interesting** stuff...like, for example, what **are** Kaito and Conan going to do with themselves now? They've agreed to work together--but how will they manage it, being used to working from opposite sides? It's a whole new ballgame for these boys! And, as in any new game, they have to have **rules**... 


	14. Rules of Engagement

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 14: Rules of Engagement**

Following his mother back to the bus stop, Kaito paced along silently, keeping his ruminations to himself. Fumiyo remained quiet and introspective the whole way, not commenting on the family conflict, nor asking him for his thoughts. He hadn't _enjoyed_ confronting his uncle, not by any means--the whole episode had been painfully unpleasant. From the looks of things, Shinichi hadn't had so great a time either. 

The tragic events of the past kept their family split into jagged shards, unable to find a resolution...and that, in Kaito's opinion, was truly saddening. That blasted far-reaching syndicate had driven a wedge between the Kuroba brothers sixteen years ago, shattering bonds of love and trust, driving one brother into hiding and the other into drastic retaliation that contributed to his own death--and that death had done nothing but intensify the gap between the two broken halves of the Kuroba clan. 

Both Kaito and Shinichi--one readily, the other unwillingly--had inherited that shattered birthright. Both halves of the family were damaged in their own way; Kaito's by his own long ignorance and his father's death, Shinichi's by secrets and lies and his father's sorrow and guilt. Their parents--who had lived through the ordeals of years past and seen the battle begin--still lived with the pain of loss and heartache. Shinichi and Kaito had suffered wounds in this war, but they were young and resilient--and determined to see the conflict end. 

Since their parents seemed unable to come to terms, perhaps it was up to the younger generation to bridge the chasm and heal their family, making it one again. 

Kaito sighed loudly, drawing himself out of his ponderings as they approached the bus stop. He checked his watch, blinking in surprise as he realized the time. "Sheesh! It's only nine-thirty! I thought we'd been in there longer--it seemed like hours." 

"It's a good thing, then," Fumiyo replied, glancing at her son. "We'll be able to catch the early bus back home." 

He cocked an eyebrow at her unruffled composure. "Say, are you okay? You seemed a little upset back there--" 

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, sitting down at the bench to wait for the bus. "I'm more worried about Yukiko-chan, and Yuusaku--they've been through a lot, and Yuusaku is still grieved by the loss of his brother..." 

"Hn." Kaito snorted. "Maybe, but he doesn't have to take it out on the rest of us." 

"And poor Shin-chan...he looked so hurt and bewildered by all this," Fumiyo sighed sadly. "If what I'm told is true, he's only known the truth for a few days--he must still be awfully confused. Poor child..." 

Kaito fought back a chuckle at his mother's pitying expression. "He's not really a little boy, Mom. He's _my_ age." 

"I _know_ that, dear. But...it's hard to think of him that way, since I've never met him when he was...older." Her eyes grew distant. "He is..._was_...a darling little boy. He looks just like you did at that age." 

"Aw, you too? _Everyone's_ gotta make a comment about how we look alike..." Kaito grumbled, then leaned against the bus stop sign and half-smiled. "If you want to know what he really looks like, just picture me. And, um...well...a little more like Yukiko-obasan, I guess. His hair doesn't stick up. Much." He ran an unconscious hand through his own unruly locks. 

Fumiyo eyed her son wryly. "He must be a handsome young devil," she teased. 

Kaito merely eyed her right back. "And don't I know it." 

There was a shared laugh, then a long silence. "Kaito...what are you planning on doing?" Fumiyo asked, soft and concerned. 

The youth shrugged. "Today? I'm gonna go home, change out of these stiff funeral clothes, and get out of the house for a while. I got a lot of thinking to do." 

"I see." 

"Beyond that, a lot of it's up to Shinichi," he confessed, his voice dropping to a low tone that wouldn't carry far. "I've got no definite plans. If we're gonna get started on this...this thing...he's gonna be the brains of the operation. I gotta admit, he's better at the 'catch-the-crook' kinda thing." 

"Know your strengths--and your weaknesses," Fumiyo whispered, recalling one of her husband's little proverbs, her eyes shining up at her son. "I have faith in you. Both of you. You'll make as good a team as Toichi and Yuusaku--probably even better." 

"Thanks, Mom." He looked up at the sound of a rumbling engine, rising from his place against the post. "Hey, there's the bus! Nine-forty--right on time." 

Little more was said on the subject of the Kudos or the new partnership on the way home. Mother and son rode silently side by side, both deep within their own reflections, as Kaito thought ahead to his next meeting with his cousin--what they would say to each other, how they would feel...and the inevitable plans they had to make. 

* * * * *

Shinichi had practically run all the way back to the Detective Agency, trying not to think about the worst parts of what had happened at the Kudo residence. He concentrated on slipping into Conan to divert his thoughts, trying to keep his mind on the task of maintaining appearances. If the pensive, anxious, despondent feelings in his heart were to show on his face, he knew for a fact he'd never be mistaken for a normal grade-schooler. Little kids didn't get upset like _that_. Not about _deep_ stuff. 

So he focused on being wide-eyed and jovial, as per Conan's usual behavior, waving cheerily at familiar faces from his neighborhood. His mask was brittle but he held it, moving along at a cute brisk trot and smiling at a few kids from school who lived nearby. 

Conan arrived breathlessly at the Mouri Detective Agency, making the climb to the third floor over stairs that were _always_ too high. Inside, he kicked off his shoes and flopped down on the nearest cushion, probably left there by Kogoro that morning. He lay flat on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling, attempting to keep his mind empty and uncluttered by thinking happy thoughts...even though such were hard to find. 

"Conan-kun! You're back!" a cheerful voice called, coming out of the kitchen. 

Oh yeah. Ran. She was a happy thought. A _very_ happy one. 

"Ran," he greeted, sitting up to offer her the best smile he could muster. 

"Did you have fun?" Ran asked brightly, though her expression didn't match her tones. She held one finger over her lips while her other hand gestured surreptitiously toward the kitchen she'd just emerged from. The message was clear--her father was just on the other side of the door. 

"Oh...yeah!" he responded lightly, in perfect Conan-voice. "Thanks for making me an early breakfast, Ran-neechan." 

She winked playfully, still voice-acting the Neechan. "How about I treat you to lunch, too? It's a beautiful Sunday for shopping, and afterwards we can get ice cream." 

Now _that_ was a bit unfair. How could he refuse? Kids just _didn't_ say no to ice cream. "Yeah!" he chirped, hopping back to his feet. "Let's go!" 

"Get your shoes, Conan-kun. I'll just tell Dad we're leaving, and be right with you." Ran disappeared back into the kitchen, while Conan slipped his shoes on again and waited just outside the door, listening to Kogoro arguing with his daughter about her stepping out without first securing him a midday meal. 

Finally, Ran emerged, dressed in casual going-shopping clothes, purse in hand. "I'm ready," she said, beginning to drop the Ran-neechan voice. 

Conan followed her downstairs, chuckling to himself--amazing how being around her improved his mood, even after the events of that morning. And surprisingly enough, playacting together to pull the wool over Kogoro Mouri's eyes was actually pretty fun. It was their secret, their own private joke on the world. 

"Okay, you got me out of the house and away from suspicious ears," he stated as they headed down the sidewalk toward the shopping districts. "Need I ask what this is about?" He came alongside her, reaching up to take her hand. It was natural enough to onlookers--and privately rather reassuring to him. There was something about being small that needed an anchor when they reached the crowded streets. 

Ran blushed a little, glancing down. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. About your parents, I mean. How did it go?" 

His other hand in his pocket, he shrugged. "Okay, I guess..." 

"You didn't _look_ okay back there in the house," she said softly, so that he could barely hear her over the city noise. "You looked...really sad." 

"Oh..." Silent for a while, he dropped his gaze to think, wondering how much he could tell her and how she would react to his _other_ "secret." He wasn't even sure he could let her know everything; it wasn't his secret alone, really. Kaito had as much or more to lose... 

He shook his head, reminding himself not to dwell on the bad parts--he'd had enough that morning. Hurrying along with Ran, he found himself trotting to keep pace. Was it just him, or had her stride increased? By the look on her face, she was upset about something--and that might explain why she was speeding up, expression tight, her thoughts turned darkly inward. "Ran? Ran-neechan, wait up!" 

His plaintive Conan-voice got an automatic reaction; she glanced down at him, snapping out of her reverie as she slowed her pace. "Oh, sorry...Conan-kun. I wasn't paying attention." 

"It's not that," he responded, shaking his head. "I'm used to getting dragged along. What's wrong?" 

Ran flushed slightly, suddenly aware of how many times she'd towed poor Shinichi around like a puppy on a leash, without a care for his short legs. She gulped, grateful for his dismissal of the matter, and replied to his question. "Shin...ah, Conan-kun...are you going to tell me...about this thing with your family? You said...you weren't keeping secrets any more." 

"Oh..." The small boy swallowed hard, his eyes darkening. Suddenly the people around him seemed too close, their ears too open. "Um...can we save it for somewhere private? It's...kind of...a sensitive topic..." 

Ran let out a breath of what seemed like relief. "Sure. That's not a problem." As long as she knew he wasn't going to lie to her any more. 

With that cleared up, they continued on, both with somewhat lighter hearts. Conan tagged along hand in hand with his "Neechan," and Ran adjusted her stride to a speed comfortable for him to keep up with. Both of them played their parts flawlessly, a little boy and his big sister--while as always, no one but them knew who was truly inside the small child's skin. 

* * * * *

Even though she'd just gone shopping with Aoko Nakamori, Ran hadn't bought anything during the little "double date" they'd shared Friday night. That foray through several favorite department stores had been more for the girls' amusement than for any acquisition of clothing and accessories--mainly an opportunity to show off for their men and enjoy themselves with fancy dresses and new styles. 

Today, however, was a more "normal" shopping trip--plain old Ran-neechan and Conan-kun, just like any other time...or maybe not. This time, the little boy hung back from the more intimate womens' apparel sections, instead of innocently following his "Neechan" in; it had been his practice before so as not to look suspicious--and since she dragged him in anyway--but now that he had less to hide he'd prefer to spare himself the usual hidden embarassment. And, blushing, she didn't insist that he come in this time. 

Another marked difference in their usual shopping habits was Ran's method of acquiring garments for Conan. Instead of picking out lovable little-boy outfits and testing them by how badly Conan reacted, she followed _him_ around the boys' department and let him do the browsing. The only suggestion on her part--fuzzy blue footie pajamas decorated with emblems from _Blue's Clues_--was mainly a joke and was answered by rolled eyes and a long-suffering sigh from her young "charge." 

Truthfully, Conan was rather delighted to be doing his own shopping for once. Freed from the necessity of hiding from a sharp-eyed Ran, he could choose clothes that _he_ liked--clothes more like what Shinichi Kudo had once worn. A little less adorable than Conan Edogawa's usual wardrobe, but it was a welcome respite from childish cuteness. Many of the garments he would have _liked_ to get were too large for him, but with Ran's patient help, he was able to find a few things in the boys' section that were near-equivalent to the ones in the young mens' department. 

By the time noon rolled around, both Ran and Conan were in considerably better spirits--and hungry enough to eagerly welcome the prospect of lunch. Their conversation at their chosen restaraunt was lighthearted and strangely comfortable despite the newness of _knowing_. For Ran, it was still a bit awkward looking into Conan's face and remembering that Shinichi was behind it; Shinichi's habit of automatically dropping into Conan Mode in her presence was only gradually beginning to fade. Although hidden behind the roles of little boy and older sister, it felt _good_ to be able to talk to each other even a _little_ like they used to. 

Despite all this cheerfulness, nothing particularly _noteworthy_ happened until dessert. 

There was a particular ice cream parlor on a street corner--a _real_ ice cream parlor, the kind of place that served all ice cream and _only_ ice cream, in more flavors than most little kids can count. That ice cream parlor was the agreed-upon dessert establishment for the two mismatched shoppers, since it carried several of their favorite flavors--and Ran-neechan had promised Conan-kun ice cream, so if he didn't come back with at least a _little_ something sticky on his shirt, someone might ask questions. 

Then again, Ran was the only one he had to worry about _really_ fooling--Kogoro wouldn't even notice. Ah, another boon--he no longer had to dribble melted ice cream on his shirt, let crumbs collect on his chin, or occasionally remember to drop food in his lap! 

Conan bounded in the door of the establishment, every bit the excited kid in a candy store--or ice cream parlor, in this case. "Look, look, Ran-neechan! They've got seats at the _front!_ Right at the counter! Hurry!" 

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Ran giggled, rather enjoying the cute, energetic, shrill-voiced spectacle of his flawless acting skills. At a more sedate pace, she followed the small, quick figure to the parlor's front counter with its high old-style soda-shop stools. The place was merrily busy, full of conversation and the noise of other happy children reveling in a Sunday ice cream treat. 

Conan was already gamely beginning the arduous climb to the lofty seat of one stool, grunting in mild irritation as he strove to swing a leg up onto the cushion. Even as nimble as he was compared to most children, the stark metal pole-leg gave no purchase even with its footrest, and the slick vinyl cushion-surface wasn't helping him any either. 

Ran smiled softly at his efforts--not in amusement, but in appreciation of his independence and determination--and set her purse and parcels down in the adjacent seat. Catching him under the arms, all it took was a little lift on her part and he was perched on the stool, looking rather startled at her. 

"What?" she challenged softly as she claimed her own seat. "You looked like you could use a boost. I'm sorry if you didn't want me to." 

Red-cheeked, he ducked his head and shrugged, small hands gripping the countertop's edge. "I...I don't really _mind_," he mumbled quietly, feeling safe to speak frankly with their conversation shrouded amidst the cheerful din of the parlor. "I just didn't think you'd want to...you know...do anything like _that_ since you found out who I really am." 

Ran found herself giggling at his rather abashed look. "Well, I won't exactly be scooping you up and carrying you around...um, especially not like I used to..." She blushed as well, remembering, as she grew more serious. "But if you need a lift, or any sort of help...I'm _not_ going to just sit back and watch you struggle." 

"Thanks," he murmured, still suddenly self-conscious--but there was gratitude and relief shining deep in his blue eyes. 

The arrival of the pleasant-looking young employee behind the counter helped alleviate the awkwardness, mainly because they both had to once again don their masks as they ordered double scoop cones of their favorite flavors--French vanilla and black raspberry for Ran, and chocolate chip mint and cookie dough for Conan. They shared secretive giggles as they waited for their ice cream, Conan's legs swinging absently as they dangled from the seat, Ran watching him affectionately as her heart swelled once more with gladness at knowing the truth. 

The ice cream arrived at last, and they were well underway on the topmost scoop--Shinichi relishing the fact that he didn't have to smear it all over his face--by the time something unusual happened. 

"With as many things as we have in common, it's a wonder we didn't run into each other more often," said a familiar voice behind them. 

Conan almost choked on his ice cream, while Ran gasped and whirled, startled at the sheer _incongruity_ of hearing _that_ voice. She stared at the newcomer for a couple of seconds, eyes darting to Conan and back--until realization sank in and she sighed in relief. "Kuroba-kun! You scared me--I thought for a second you were Shinichi." 

"Aw, c'mon," Kaito chided, grinning rakishly. "I know we're alike and all, but really--I thought you _knew_." 

Ran paused, eyebrows raised, remembering that Kaito was also one of the People Who Know. "I do," she said with a conspiratory smile. "But you _did_ surprise me." 

Beside her, Conan stared at the newcomer, surprised to run into his cousin for the second time that day. "What are you doing here?" he asked abruptly, confused. 

Kaito hefted his own ice cream cone blandly. "Eating dessert--what's it look like? I come here pretty often, actually. I should be asking _you_ the same question." 

Conan blinked. "Me and Ran are...uh..." 

"On a date?" Kaito offered, deadpan, as the would-be "couple" went bright red. "Thought it was something like that." 

"Not really!" Ran corrected hastily. "We just went shopping and...had a talk, that's all." 

Meanwhile, Conan was scrutinizing Kaito's dessert, peering carefully at what little remained of the topmost scoop of ice cream. "Say, is that...?" 

"Yup." Kaito grinned again. "Chocolate chip mint and cookie dough--that's what I was talking about. What're the chances we both order the same two flavors--in the same sequence?" 

Ran's eyes widened. "Wow, that's an amazing coincidence!" 

"Maybe." Kaito's eyes sparkled with hidden secrets. "I just thought it's _odd_ we share so many favorite foods. Our meals on Friday were...interesting." 

Conan narrowed his eyes at the teasing, trying to mentally nudge his cousin into remembering not to say _too_ much in public. He turned his attention back to his ice cream just in time to catch a couple of wayward drips that had almost reached his fingers. It was never a good idea to get distracted when dealing with an ice cream cone--otherwise he'd end up really looking like the little kid he wasn't, messy shirt and all. 

Kaito seated himself on the other side of Conan without hesitation, as he too returned to the business of cone management. He no longer wore the neat, formal clothes he'd appeared in that morning; his current ensemble was a simple combination of jeans, shirt, and jacket. 

"Fancy meeting you here," Conan offered, once the drips were under control. "I didn't expect to see you again today." 

"Honestly, me neither," Kaito admitted. "But I guess after this morning neither of us wants to sit around at home." 

"That's for sure," Conan murmured, glancing at Ran. She was watching them keenly, a concerned expression growing on her face. 

"But hey!" Kaito went on, grinning, suddenly jovial and totally oblivious to Ran's scrutiny. "Ice cream is the greatest Cure For What Ails You known to mankind. So let's eat, slurp, and be merry, for tomorrow we...have to go to school. So then--a toast to favorite flavors." Accompanied by Ran's giggles and Conan's rather cynical snort, he hefted his ice cream cone like a champagne glass. "Cheers!" 

Ran responded with a humorous twinkle in her eyes, raising what was left of her black raspberry cone. "Cheers." 

"You don't need to wish _him_ cheers," Conan put in. "He's cheerful enough for all of us." 

"Mm-hm," Kaito agreed indistinctly, already hard at work at what was left of his chocolate chip mint. 

The conversation remained light and playful until the dessert was gone; Kaito did most of the talking, distracting Ran rather skillfully from the subject of _parents_ with good-natured banter that even got Conan snickering. By the time the last drop of ice cream was gone and the final cone crunched, Ran seemed to have lost her suspicious air and Conan was as bright-eyed as a true child. If nothing else, Kaito was a master entertainer, even if his magic tricks were confined to merely turning a paper napkin into a real white rose. 

It was during the contented quiet after the desserts were eaten, while all three leaned against the counter and relaxed amongst the bustle of the Sunday afternoon customers, that Conan finally spoke up--and ruined the relaxed atmosphere that Kaito had worked so hard to cultivate between them. 

"Kaito, we really need to talk." 

Ran's expression sharpened again, while Kaito sighed deeply and resignedly. So much for keeping Ran calm... "Yeah, I know. But this isn't the place." 

"You want to go find somewhere quiet?" Conan asked softly, eyeing Ran warily. 

"Sure, why not?" Kaito glanced at the girl as well, raising an eyebrow. "Um, I don't suppose she..." 

Conan dropped his voice to a near-whisper. "No. I haven't told her yet." 

"Told me what?" Ran demanded instantly, but with enough presence of mind to keep her volume quite low. "Shi--Conan-kun, you _promised_." 

"I _know_," the boy replied. "But...this is...I can't just..." 

Knowing a confrontation when he saw one coming, Kaito cleared his throat. "You know what? I'm gonna just wait out front, 'kay? Just to give you two some privacy. See you in a few." He politely extricated himself from the conversation, heading for the door before either of them could respond. 

Conan watched the youth go, surprised at the amount of faith his cousin was showing him. Kaito _trusted_ him with the potential of telling someone the secret of Kid, their family, their mission. Trusted him...and trusted Ran, too. Now if only he could find an easy way to tell her. He didn't have a clue how she would react to the undeniably _illegal_ nature of his true heritage. 

"Um...Ran...can this wait?" he mumbled, a little dismayed at the growing anger on her face. "I need to talk to Kaito about this--he's one of the people involved, so I can't go blurting things out--" 

"You told me you wouldn't lie to me any more," she stated, her voice so soft and so hurt that he flinched visibly. 

"I'm _not_ lying!" he hissed, leaning closer so that only she would hear his quiet, intense words. "And I hate to keep putting you off like this. But it isn't just _my_ secret to keep, you know. It's Kaito's--hell, it's my whole family's. It might hurt _them_ if I'm careless--just like the secret of my true identity. _You_ don't just go around divulging private things about _your_ family, do you? Not even to me. _Please_ understand--if it was my secret alone, like with Conan, I'd tell you right now." 

Ran frowned. "What, you think you can't trust me with it? What about--?" 

"No!" Glancing around, Conan gritted his teeth and moderated his tone, hoping no one was paying attention. "Listen. This is something that's...hard to understand. Almost more than the Conan thing. And...I'm not sure how you'll take it..." 

"'The Conan thing' is about the weirdest, hardest to swallow, most shocking thing I've ever had to understand," Ran sighed, sitting back in her chair to regard him frankly. "And your family--Kaito included, I suppose--is eccentric enough that I can't imagine anything _that_ hard to take." 

Against his will, the corner of his mouth quirked. "You'd be surprised." 

"Is it...really that bad?" 

He sighed, looking down. "For me it is." 

"For you...?" Ran noticed his discomfort immediately, and began to regret her mistrust and forcefulness. "Shin...Conan-kun...what's...?" 

"Not here." 

"Oh, fine!" She sat back with a sigh, turning away from him. "I suppose it can wait until you get home. With the way your family is, I suppose you'll be telling me that your dad moonlights as the Kaitou Kid and your mother counts the cash for him after every heist." 

A sudden and very pronounced _hush_ fell on the little boy beside her. Small hands tightly gripping the counter's edge, wide eyes fixed on his own white knuckles, the rigid little form broadcast sudden _anguish_ with every fiber of his being. He was silent so _piercingly_ that her mind halted mid-thought and backpedaled like a spooked mule, her own words ringing back in her ears. Careless, unthinking words--but suddenly there was the frightening, inconceivable _possibility...!_

"Oh...oh no...I was just...kidding...! It's not...!" 

"It's _not_," he said quietly, not looking up. "Not like you think." 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, covering her mouth, her previous anger long forgotten. "I didn't mean..." 

"I know." He looked up at her, eyes dark with shadows that no ordinary child's could hold. "I'll tell you tonight, Ran," he whispered earnestly, turning to lean close so that only she would hear. "I'll tell you everything that I _can_. I have to ask Kaito if he...if he's okay with it too. He has a lot at stake in this...his life's on the line as well. Can you understand?" 

Mutely, she nodded, her eyes still glistening with apology and apprehension. 

"Thanks. I promise I'll tell you later," he concluded, a faint smile finally returning. "I'm sorry our Sunday couldn't be better. I wish to God I were still _myself_..." 

"No, don't--!" She cut off her protest before it grew too loud. "I enjoyed it--I really did. No matter what size you are. Don't apologize for being with me however you _can_." 

Gratefully, his smile quirked up just a bit more. "Well, I guess I should get going--the sooner I talk with Kaito, the sooner I can get back to you." He glanced over his shoulder at the still-busy roomful of people--and Kaito, just visible through the glass doors, waiting absently on the sidewalk. "I'm hitting the road again--wish me luck." 

Ran managed a smile as well. "Good luck, Conan-kun. Take care, and stay safe." 

"I will." Getting off the stool was considerably simpler than getting on, despite the drop to the floor. He landed with the ease of long practice, grinning up at her; he was once again completely Conan, a cute, ordinary grade-schooler. "Bye, Ran-neechan, I'll be back soon!" he piped sweetly, loudly and innocently enough to lay to rest the doubts of anyone who might have seen too much or overheard strange things. 

She watched him dash off through the parlor and out to the crowded sidewalk, bouncing to Kuroba-kun's side with a merry cry of "Kaito-niichan!"--shrill enough to be heard through the slowly-closing door--for the benefit of the onlookers. Kuroba-kun hammed up his part beautifully, patting his "little brother" on the head with a friendly grin and leading the small boy out of her sight down the sidewalk. 

Her smile faded when she could no longer see them. Her mind still spun with suppositions from her own evocative words; she couldn't even _begin_ to surmise the truth of what had upset him, but she couldn't allow herself to run away with a mere hypothesis. Theories and assumptions would only make things worse--would only hurt them both, as she had done before while pushing for the truth about Conan. 

She sighed, gathering her purse and shopping bags and preparing to head home. Once again she was left alone, waiting for _him_. But she had the solemn promise of his return, and that he would tell her what he could. Even if that wasn't what she wanted to hear, she had faith in him. She loved him. 

And at this point, with all that was going on around them, and all that loomed ready to tear their lives apart, she had little else to hold on to. 

* * * * *

"I honestly thought you'd be at home moping after what happened this morning," Kaito commented, once they were out of the more busy section of the streets. "With Ojisan fuming mad and all..." 

"I couldn't stand to sit at home either." Away from crowds, the Conan act wore thin quickly; walking alongside his nemesis/cousin/friend down the quiet sidewalk, it seemed pretty unnecessary. Pointless enough that he didn't check the unchildlike sardonic smile that twisted his lips. "Actually, Ran dragged me out of the house to get away from her dad. She wanted to talk." 

Kaito wisely kept his snicker to himself. "So...I take it you're planning on telling her?" 

"Yeah." Shinichi's gaze dropped to the concrete. "I hope you don't have a problem with it. I trust her with _my_ secret, so--" 

"No problem at all," Kaito replied with a shrug, marshalling his voice so that not a single iota of hesitation showed through--but while he strove to keep it level, he forgot to seal away the hint of sadness. "Ran's a lot more patient than Aoko is, that's for sure. I think she'll understand." 

_I hope so..._ Shinichi didn't speak aloud the words in his heart, the feelings both of them shared. 

Somehow, his feet led him along the quiet streets in the direction of Beika Park; Kaito followed him silently, content with whatever destination his small companion chose. Shinichi himself didn't realize where exactly he was headed--not until he pulled up short just inside the park's borders, blinking in surprise. "I came here with Ran yesterday," he stated, half to himself, breaking the silence between them. 

"That's right--I forgot that cure you had lasted twenty-four hours." Kaito grinned a little, glancing down at him. "So I guess you made good use of your time, huh?" 

Shinichi scowled. "Didn't have _enough_ time." 

"You had all morning," Kaito observed. "What, did you change back right in front of her, and that's how she found out?" 

"No," the small boy grumbled as they continued on through the park, following the small path. "I got away before it happened--and ended up telling her the truth later, at my house. But it was here in this park; I started changing back when we were just about to--um..." 

Kaito cocked an eyebrow, quickly catching on. "Ouch." 

"Oh, shut up," Shinichi growled, flushing red. 

By this time, they had reached the little "river" and the footbridge that spanned it. Shinichi's expression became pensive and wistful as he paused in the middle of the bridge, exactly where he and Ran had stood close together yesterday. He could barely even _reach_ the handrail now; vexed at his size, he gripped the lower railings and gazed out at the water, heaving an involuntary sigh. "This is where it happened..." 

Kaito kept his comments to himself, waiting until Shinichi looked up at him again, ready to resume walking. He felt he only had a vague idea of what his cousin suffered being trapped in the body of a child; he had his own problems and tribulations, but at least he wasn't forced to change shape and unwillingly lose his identity. 

They continued on once Shinichi drew himself away from the bridge rails, crossing to the other side and venturing off the path, into the shade-dappled grass. They came to a stop upon some unspoken agreement, choosing a section of cool grass on the small slope down to the waterway, shaded by softly rustling maples. Kaito sat down first, settling with a relaxed sigh and leaning back on his hands. Shinichi remained standing, still preoccupied--but it didn't matter since Kaito's position put them roughly at eye level. 

It seemed a long time that they both just remained that way, side by side, staring at the flat water, the quivering maple boughs. Both gathered their thoughts for the agreed-upon negotiation of terms; they'd consented to unite against their enemy...but now they had to decide just how they would work together. 

"How are we going to do this, Kaito?" Shinichi broke the silence first, still staring off across the water. 

Kaito shrugged. "I thought I'd tag along when you go on investigations that might have to do with the Organization, and back you up whenever you encounter them. I figure an extra pair of eyes wouldn't hurt, and I _know_ you occasionally need an extra set of hands. And any legwork that needs to be done, I can do--you know, things that...well, a little kid can't." 

"Sounds okay," Shinichi admitted, closing his eyes to think. "There's not much I can do for you, though..." 

"Oh, I think there is." Kaito's sardonic smile slipped in around the corners of his mouth. 

"_What?_" Shinichi was finaly jerked out of his distant staring, his wide eyes turning to his cousin. 

"You'd be surprised. Even if you're small, I can still use that brain of yours. Planning, tactics, and execution of strategy--I'd bet money you can niggle out details that even I'd miss." 

Shinichi gaped at him. "You expect me to help you steal...?" 

"You can help me find the right targets--the things most likely to draw _them_ out in the open--and even plan the thing so I can drag the police across them. That's the whole point of my heists, you know; I find them, and I invite Nakamori and Company to make the party interesting--you can help out with that in a big way, since you're so good at that sort of detective thinking..." Kaito noticed his cousin's wary look. "Hey, I won't make you do anything you don't want to--I know how you feel about Kid's...activities. I can go by myself--I have before, so it's no problem. The main thing I'm concerned about is getting the Organization. I can work alone, but having you along to help will double our chances of success--" 

"All right, all right, I'll do it," Shinichi stated, interrupting. "But only so we can get _them_. And you'd better not cause any major damage, and we aren't _keeping_ anything we take--" 

"Hey, I'm pretty good at keeping things under control," Kaito put in. _And since when did it become "we" in your mind?_ "I don't let the cops take the chase too far, I _try_ to cut down on property damage, and the only thing that's bruised is Nakamori's ego--or sometimes my own hide, if I miss." 

"You'd better not miss," Shinichi said lowly. "If you get arrested..." 

"I won't." 

"I'm not going to let things get out of hand, either. We won't do any more stealing than absolutely necessary." 

"I trust you'll keep me honest," Kaito drawled. 

"Damn straight I will," Shinichi shot back. "Or else we're no better than _them_." 

Kaito merely cocked an eyebrow. "I knew I could depend on you." 

Expression set, Shinichi paced a few steps forward, pausing to turn and face the youth seated on the grass. His little-boy face was so stern, so serious, that it was almost comical--a seven-year-old staring Kaito down with such utter gravity. He almost chuckled aloud, but just managed to refrain, knowing who was really behind that young face. 

"All right...if you're expecting me to be the conscience of this partnership, then I'm going to set some ground rules," Shinichi announced firmly, pinning Kaito's gaze with his own. "You're going to have to abide by them if you want this to work." 

"Great, go ahead," Kaito replied, all ears. 

Shinichi took a deep breath. "Okay...Rule One: When we're in public, my name is Conan Edogawa. I have enough trouble by myself trying to keep my identity a secret. Don't call me Shinichi Kudo when others are around--Hattori's bad enough as it is." 

"Fine; with you so far," Kaito responded, nodding. 

"Rule Two: When we're dealing with cases, _I_ call the shots--got it? I'm in charge. If you hang around, keep your mouth shut and your eyes open, and try to make yourself useful. You've got quick wits and sharp eyes, and you're old enough to be credible. Just make sure you clear everything with me _before_ you flap that fast tongue of yours." 

"How am I supposed to talk to you in the middle of a case?" Kaito asked, perplexed. 

"You're smart, aren't you? You'll think of something." Shinichi smiled grimly at him, then went on. "Rule Three: No stealing." 

"Hey! I only do that when I'm in uniform--" 

"Good. Then you won't have any problems with Rule Three," Shinichi interrupted. "Acting as Kid is one thing--but when we're on _my_ terms, you keep your hands off. This deal is _over_ if I catch you lifting anything when we're not on a serious job--and if I even _think_ you're taking something I'm gonna find the nearest kickable object and--" 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it already." Kaito sighed. "Anything else, Mon Capitain?" 

"As a matter of fact, yes," Shinichi replied. "Rule Four: Keep the magic to a minimum. You can run around with your flashy tricks and confetti all you want on your own, but when we're working together I'd rather you _not_ make a jackass out of yourself. When you get going, _everybody_ watches, and it's hard to keep a low profile when you're doing that. I don't need to attract anyone's attention, and the more noise you make the harder it is to keep _me_ a secret." 

"Oh, yeah....that's for sure," Kaito agreed thoughtfully. "Okay--tone down the tricks during serious time." 

"Rule Five..." Shinichi hesitated, taking a breath and looking just a _bit_ discomfited. "I prefer not to be manhandled. It's one thing for the people who _don't_ know to treat me like a little kid; it's something entirely different when the people who _do_ know start hoisting me off my feet. It's _not_ funny; I'm not a doll or a pet or even a real kid--I don't enjoy being grabbed, lifted, or hauled around without warning whenever anybody feels like it. If by some chance you _do_ need to pick me up, _ask first_." 

With an effort, Kaito schooled his features into complete gravity. "Gotcha. Obtain express permission before hoisting; no problem." He paused for a beat. "But...Ran didn't--" 

Shinichi hesitated, a little flushed. "Ran is...different. She doesn't have to ask because I _know_ her, I _trust_ her, and she's careful about it. Understand? Unless it's absolutely necessary, only Ran picks me up." The boy fixed him with a sharp, adamant look. "_Only_ Ran." 

"Ah..." After a moment of silence, Kaito shrugged. "Okay. Is that it?" 

"I guess so." Shinichi shrugged. "Oh, wait, one more thing--somewhat related to Rule Five. If you bop me on the head, I'll let you have it with the Shoes on full--and I'm not kidding." 

Kaito blinked at him, so Shinichi explained himself. "I let Kogoro Mouri get away with it because he's a moron and I have to keep up my act. I'm _not_ going to tolerate it from someone who's in the know." 

"Except maybe Ran," Kaito murmured innocently. 

Shinichi glared. "Hey!" 

"Sorry, sorry! Bad form, I know--that's below the belt..." Despite his "apology," Kaito's expression was completely unrepentant. "But if Ran's your exception to Rule Five..." 

Shinichi's disgruntled glare made him stop talking, but couldn't make him stop snickering. "I'm _serious_ about the rules, Kaito," the boy stated, scowling. "If you expect this to work, we've got to be _careful_." 

"All right, agreed," Kaito replied, sobering. "Well then, since you've stated your guidelines for working together, I suppose I ought to tell you my own set of rules." 

"_You_ have rules?" Shinichi asked incredulously. 

"Of _course_," his cousin retorted, as if it were galactically obvious. "If I didn't, I'd be no better than _them_, right?" 

Shinichi stared at him for a moment, as if surprised to hear the legendary Kid speak of rules and standards. "O-okay...go ahead," he said after a few seconds. 

"Rule One: Same as yours. When we're out and about, I'm nothing more than Kaito Kuroba, the son of the famous magician. No Kid, no thievery--show me the same consideration you want, and keep _my_ identity a secret too." 

"I understand," Shinichi replied quickly. 

"Rule Two: When we're doing a 'performance,' _I_ call the shots," the teen stated with a twinkle in his eye, amused at playing off his cousin's rules. "I know you know your way around a crime scene, but your experience with the art of thievery is somewhat limited, despite your...talent. So when I say 'Duck,' or 'Run for it,' you _do_ it--got that?" 

"Yeah," the boy admitted, looking down. 

"It's for your protection. I can't let my cousin get arrested, now can I?" Kaito sat up, still speaking pleasantly. "Rule Three: If you're with me on this...no tripping alarms or tipping off the police if you get cold feet. If we're working together, we have to _stay_ working together--or we'll end up working _against_ each other again." Kaito's face was utterly serious, eyes focused on the small boy's. 

Shinichi nodded mutely, startled at his cousin's sudden intensity. It reminded him of the confrontation with his father that morning... 

But then Kaito was smiling again. "Okay then, Rule Four: No property destruction that can reasonably be avoided. I'm a thief, not a vandal or a burglar--the objective is to take the target, and not wreck everything else in the process. I pride myself on a clean getaway..._and_ a clean crime scene." His eyes twinkled a bit. "So rest assured that we won't be causing the citizens of Japan vast amounts of financial trouble, and most of the damage is caused by Nakamori and his goons chasing me--which means the police department has to pay for it..." 

Shinichi couldn't help the little chortle that snuck out. 

Kaito's expression grew more serious again. "Rule Five: _No_ human collateral damage. Nobody gets hurt." 

"I agree to that one wholeheartedly," Shinichi stated with rapid nodding. 

"I knew you would," Kaito responded. "It's the most important rule, really. I'd be no better than the Organization's thugs if I just cut through anyone and anything to achieve my goal. That isn't the phantom thief's way. It's been...most upsetting those times that I snuck along on your investigations, only to have someone die before I could stop it, or because I didn't _see_..." 

"Especially if someone was murdered in your name," Shinichi observed. "I know what you mean--I feel the same way. But I don't think anyone can stop that sort of thing from happening--" 

"I should have been able to," Kaito interrupted, staring at the water. "A big part of being a phantom thief means being able to read people, and to tell what they're going to do before they do it, so I can act insead of _re_act." 

"I don't think either of us can ever understand or predict what goes on in the minds of those kinds of people," Shinichi murmured, finally deciding to sit down on the grass beside his cousin. 

"Oh really?" Kaito snorted. "It takes less than you think to make someone consider murdering another human being." His eyes darkened. "Sometimes even I think about doing something _real_ nasty to the guys who killed my dad. Something _terminal_. And you--not even _you_ can be immune to that kind of anger. What if somebody hurt someone you cared about? Like Ran--what if some bastard really hurt her, maybe even killed her?" 

Shinichi stared up at him for long moments, aghast, his own mind awhirl with disbelief, denial, and the cold frightening thought of _"What if...?"_ Something he hardly allowed himself to think about during waking hours--how angry, how inconsolable, how anguished and enraged he'd be if Ran were dead by some madman's hands... It was the stuff of not a few of his worst nightmares...nightmares where nothing--_nothing_--could stand between him and the one who had done it to her. Not the law, not his friends, not even his pitiful size... 

"It's not a good thing to think about, is it?" Kaito asked after a while. 

"No..." 

"But with what we're up against, it's always a possibility--you know that." 

"Yeah." 

"I think I understand Ojisan a little bit though. He lost Dad, and came so close to losing you and Obasan. It's hard to even think about my family or friends dying like Dad did. Once was bad enough...and if I lost..." Kaito swallowed, shifting his weight back to his arms as he spoke, almost inaudible. "I couldn't bear it again." 

"I can only imagine it," Shinichi confessed at length. "I've never had anyone I love die like that. I've had it easy in my life, I guess. It took Gin and Vodka and that night at Tropical Land to shake me out of my nice happy little world." 

"I thought they put you _into_ a 'little' world," Kaito drawled, slightly deadpan, staring off at the maple trees as if ignoring Shinichi's resulting glare. 

"And then _you_ had to go and do another shake-up," the little boy snorted. "Between you and Dad and the Organization, I'm surprised my brain hasn't been rattled out through my ears." He quieted, glancing at the youth beside him, a small smile at the corner of his mouth. "By the way, about this morning...thanks. I'm glad you came to support me." 

Kaito shrugged, turning up a rather humorous grin. "Yeah, well, I figured you didn't have enough altitude to stand _up_ for yourself, so I thought I'd add a little _weight_ to your argument." 

Shinichi rolled his eyes. "Aw, shut up..." 

"But _I'm_ glad you didn't back down in front of your dad," Kaito offered. "I know it's gotta be hard to disagree with him like that. But I knew you'd _rise_ to the occasion." 

"Knock it _off_, wise-ass," Shinichi grumbled--but his own features were touched with humor. "I don't really need any reminders about my vertically challenged status, thanks." 

"Moi? Use your physical _short_comings as fodder for teasing? Would I do a thing like that?" 

"Do pidgeons fly?" 

"Yes." 

"There you have it." Shinichi turned a sardonic glance toward his cousin. "If that's your stance on things, I hope you don't mind a few 'walking park statue' jokes when your doves are around. Say, do you have to shoulder-train your birds, or is that the reason you wear a white suit?" 

Kaito's grin fell to a look of surprised indignation. "_Hey!_" 

"Turnabout's fair play, my dear cousin." Like Kaito's had been, Shinichi's smile was highly unapologetic. 

Composure regained, Kaito cocked an eyebrow complacently. "So if I don't like your jokes and I decide to toss you in the drink, would that be considered a breach of your Rule Five?" 

Shinichi jumped, glancing at his cousin warily. "Of course!" He also kept a close eye on Kaito's hands. "That's not fair, anyway." 

"Hm?" Kaito leaned over, looming. "And who says?" 

Shinichi was on his feet in a heartbeat. "You wouldn't!" 

"Oh? Wouldn't I?" Kaito grinned--it was supremely hilarious how his little cousin was backing away, looking quite worried. "You know me...always the prankster..." 

"But...that...that's not _fair...!_ You're _bigger_, and...that water's _cold_, and--and you _know_ I can't fight back and...you...you wouldn't ever..._really_..." Shinichi's eyes got even wider when Kaito rose to his feet--and suddenly seemed a lot _taller_ than usual. "Hey...I'm not _really_ a kid, you know...if I was my real size there's _no way_ you could...Kaito? What--? Hey, no--don't...don't you _dare...!_" 

A single step forward on Kaito's part--complete with smirking grin--was all it took to start Shinichi running with a rather panicked squawk. Laughing, Kaito took off after him, wondering if the boy would realize he was only kidding--poor Shinichi took things so seriously sometimes. As accustomed as Kaito was to being pursued by determined detectives, it was rather fun to be doing the chasing for a change--even if there was less at stake than life and limb and a stint in jail. His amusement wouldn't endure long, but he'd enjoy it while it lasted. He could tell the little squirt that he was joking..._after_ he caught him and dangled him over the water a bit. 

The look on Shinichi's face would be absolutely _priceless_. And then maybe he'd let his cousin chase _him_ around for a bit of revenge. The laughter would lift their spirits, and the friendship would strengthen their hearts. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ And another chapter is completed! Just hang in there, File 15 is underway as you read this! I'm working at a darn good clip, and I hope to have it done **very** soon! See you then!_


	15. Calling Time

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 15: Calling Time**

Ran sat on the couch in her father's office, still and pensive. With Kogoro sprawled out upstairs in front of the television, this seemed the best place to be alone with her thoughts. Mostly they centered on Shinichi, but a few of them were for his whole family, fueled by the blind suppositions her mind brought up about what might be wrong. She had no way of knowing until he told her. 

She wished she had someone to talk to, really--someone with whom she could share her fears and concerns. Preferably a female friend; Shinichi was in her heart and soul, but there were some things you just couldn't _talk_ to men about. And any discussion of his situation seemed to make him uncomfortable and self-conscious, darkening his beautiful blue eyes with angry thoughts at the men who had done this to him. 

But there was no one she _could_ talk with. Sonoko, while she _was_ Ran's best friend, was never that good at keeping secrets. Kazuha-chan was too much like Hattori-kun--the Osaka pair both tended to be blunt and open, and neither were adept at hiding things like this. Aoko Nakamori seemed nice, but they'd only just made acquaintance, and even if she _was_ Kuroba-kun's girlfriend Ran had no way of knowing how much she knew or even if she'd be a likely candidate for such a confidence. 

With whom, then, could she share her thoughts and cares and fears? 

The telephone rang, interrupting her brooding. Her father probably wasn't going to jump up and get it--he was most likely asleep--so she rose from the couch and headed for the desk, snatching up the handset. 

"Mouri Detective Agency," she recited blandly, scooping up a pencil to take a message. 

"Hello, may I speak with...oh, Ran-chan, is that you?" the female voice said, its tone and pitch abruptly changing mid-sentence. 

"Ah! Yukiko-obachan!" Ran greeted, surprised to hear from Shinichi's mother. "I haven't seen you in a while. How are you?" 

"I'm...quite healthy," Yukiko replied, although her voice wasn't as bright as Ran remembered it being. "Ran-chan...?" 

Ran sat down in the chair next to the desk, smiling a little, her voice slightly breathless. "Yes, it's true--I _know_. But it's okay--Shinichi and I have talked things over. I'm still a little angry with him, but I understand why he did what he did." 

"I'm glad to hear that. But he hasn't told you anything about what happened this morning, I take it," Yukiko said hesitantly. 

"No...I don't mean to pry, but I _am_ worried about him. He seemed kind of upset when he came home... Obachan, is he okay?" 

"I think so, dear..." Yukiko paused for a moment. "Actually, I'm calling to talk to Shin-chan...is he there?" 

"Oh...well, he's gone out to talk to Kuroba-kun...I don't know when he'll be back." 

"I see..." 

"But he should be back soon! 'Conan-kun' knows he's not supposed to be out after dark, and it'll be dinner time shortly, too," Ran offered, brightening her voice. 

"I'm sure 'Conan-kun' is being _very_ well-behaved, isn't he?" Yukiko asked with a small giggle. 

Ran smiled, thankful that the older woman's voice had become more cheerful. "Yes, he is. He was a model child when we went shopping today." 

"You took him shopping? My, I suppose you made him sweat through the womens' departments." Another giggle that Ran was glad to hear. 

"No...actually, I think he enjoyed getting to pick his own clothes this time," Ran confessed with a short laugh. "I know I'm a bit angry still, but I also can't help feeling a little sorry for him. I...I suppose it hasn't been easy for him, living like this..." 

Yukiko sighed audibly, her tone lowering. "No, dear, it hasn't. I'm sad to say I haven't been there for him as much as I should, nor have we talked about it a lot, but...he's been very lonely, very tired, and very, very afraid." 

Ran felt her breath catch on a lump in her throat. "I...I wish I'd _known_...I wish he would've just told me at the beginning. I could've helped him...even if I couldn't help him get back to normal, I could've been a real friend to him--someone he could talk to... And I was lonely too--he was right there all along but I couldn't see it, and I _missed_ him...Obachan, I missed him _so much...!_" 

Yukiko's voice was soft, gentle. "Ran-chan, honey, are you crying?" 

"I...uh..." Ran put a hand to her cheek and found, to her surprise, that it was wet. "I guess I am..." 

"You haven't _really_ cried since he told you, have you?" Yukiko asked tenderly. 

"I guess not..." To her dismay, Ran found that the tears on her cheeks wouldn't stop coming, no matter how she tried. "I'm...terribly sorry..." 

"Oh hush! Don't hold back, dear--everyone needs a good cry now and then." Yukiko took a deep breath as Ran's soft sobs were unleashed. "Why, I had a long cry myself, after I saw what they did to my Shin-chan. Go ahead and cry, Ran-chan...I'm here for you. Cry and complain and say whatever you want." 

"Thank you, Obachan," Ran sniffled, wiping ineffectively at her eyes--there were just too many tears for her to stop. "It's just...I've had all afternoon to sit here and _think_ about him...about what he's been through and what he must feel. I almost feel selfish for being angry with him..." 

"Nonsense! Ran-chan, the little baka didn't even have the wits to tell his parents what happened! We came home and he was just _gone_--and I was so worried about him! I was quite upset as well, once Professor Agasa informed us of the details. We had a good long talk with him then--a real parent-child talk. We almost took him away with us to America, to protect him from _them_, but he wouldn't hear of it. He refused to leave you." For long moments, Yukiko listened to the sound of Ran's shaky breaths as the girl cried softly. "He missed you too, Ran-chan...I know it hurt him terribly to lie to you." 

"I love him...so much, Obachan," Ran admitted unsteadily, reaching for the tissues in the desk drawer. "It...it _hurts_ to know he's unhappy...and I look back on what we've been through together, when I thought he was Conan...and now that I know, I realize what he's been through...what _I_ put him through...!" 

"He doesn't blame you at all, Ran-chan," Yukiko told her firmly. "He understands everything--how could you think of him as anything else? He _chose_ to keep it from you. But even then, he really relied on you. To hear _him_ talk, you're the only person he can depend on." 

"I know he let me down by lying to me all this time..." Ran took a deep, quavering breath. "But I feel like I let _him_ down too. I wish...I _wish_ he'd _told_ me...!" 

"Well, now he has," Yukiko said. Her voice, so much stronger than Ran felt, offered tremendous support. "And now you're one of the few who know the truth about him and the people that did this to him. I hope you realize that's a large responsibility." 

Ran sniffled, still trying to dry her eyes. "I know. If I slip, now that he's entrusted his secret to me..." 

Yukiko sighed. "Ran-chan...you hold my son's life in your hands. In more ways than one." 

"Obachan..." Wide-eyed, Ran listened carefully. 

"You know first and foremost that his secret identity is the only thing keeping him alive right now," the older woman told her, uncharacteristically serious. "The moment _they_ find out he's still alive, not only our lives are in danger but _his_ as well." 

"Yes..." 

"And...I know how he feels about you," Yukiko continued, tone softening. "I wouldn't be a mother if I couldn't see it. You hold his _heart_ in your hands, too." 

Ran's quiet gasp was quite audible over the phone. 

"He missed you, Ran-chan, but he was determined to protect you from _them_ no matter how much he hurt himself doing it," Yukiko went on. "That's sacrificial love if I ever saw it. I know he seems like such a calm, cool detective all the time, as if he's invincible, but he's very fragile in a lot of ways. A lot of his confidence depends on how others see him, and becoming Conan was a serious blow to his self-esteem. This whole affair has really tested him...our family issues included...and he's become so worn-down and insecure... Ran-chan...it's up to you to guard his heart as well--he needs you so much, especially now..." 

Ran was startled to hear a sob in Yukiko's voice as well. "Obachan...I won't...I won't let him down, I promise...!" 

"I know you won't, honey." Yukiko actually sniffed. "My, I thought I was being the shoulder to cry on! It's no good if the shoulder gets teary..." 

"No, I don't mind...!" Ran was quick to protest. "Honestly...I really needed another woman to talk to about this...and I think you came as the answer to my prayers." 

"That's very sweet of you, Ran-chan," Yukiko responded honestly. "I appreciate your confidence...and your listening ear, too. I know I can trust you to take care of Shin-chan." 

"I'll try my best," Ran replied earnestly. "He and I are both on new ground, now that I know...but I guess we'll just take it one day at a time, and learn together." 

"That's the spirit," Yukiko applauded. "I imagine it's going to be an adventure for both of you, but as long as you keep each other in your hearts, you'll be fine. He'll watch out for you, and you'll look after him, and together you can handle anything." 

"At least I won't have to _worry_ about him as much as I used to," Ran confessed. "Shinichi _and_ Conan. I used to worry about Shinichi because he was always gone doing God-knows-what, and Conan because he was a little kid who could get hurt or into trouble because he didn't know any better..." 

"On the contrary," Yukiko disagreed, "I think Shin-chan is worse in some ways." 

"Really?" 

"Shin-chan may have the _mind_ of a young man, but...Ran-chan, honestly, his body is a little boy's. He can still get into all the same kinds of trouble, even though he knows better, because a child simply can't handle those things. Sometimes he _thinks_ he can, when he forgets what he is...and he can get hurt..." 

"Oh..." Ran's eyes widened. "I see..." 

"So you'll still have to look after him," Yukiko told her wryly, softly. "You'll need to watch over him to make sure he doesn't try to do anything _too_ dangerous...and see that others don't harm him because he _looks_ like a child and they want to take advantage of him. And...if he _is_ about to do something rash or dangerous, you'll need to remind him of his limitations--_gently_ and _carefully_, so you don't bruise what's left of his pride." 

"I understand." 

"You can make it easier on him by _offering_ your help instead of waiting for him to ask you--but be _tactful_ about that help and remember how independent he is. Also, bear in mind that he's still just as skillful and experienced, despite his size, so be sure to learn quickly what he can and can't handle by himself. We all understand what a dangerous situation we're in, so don't let him tell you not to get involved--because he _does_ need you for protection, security, assurance, friendship..." 

Ran wondered if she'd be able to live up to the older woman's expectations--and be the person Shinichi needed her to be. 

Yukiko took a deep breath, her tone full of significance. "But on the other hand, always be aware of the risks, and _listen_ to him; you know how intelligent he is, and how perceptive--he knows what he's dealing with, Ran-chan, and he isn't naive or unaware, so you'd be wise to consider his advice. Be willing to help out, but also be ready to stand back." 

Ran listened, astonished at Yukiko's seriousness and wisdom. She'd seldom heard such gravity from Shinichi's mother; so often in her memory, Yukiko-obachan was all smiles and silliness, a wonderful lady to have fun with--except when she was driving--and a carefree, sparkling soul. This was a side of Yukiko she'd hardly seen, if ever. 

"I...I'll try," Ran whispered honestly. 

"I know." Yukiko's smile was deep enough to be _heard_. "You've done a marvelous job so far, Ran-chan, and I don't mean just since yesterday. You've helped keep Shin-chan sane through this whole thing, even if you _didn't_ know." 

"Thank you, Obachan." 

"Despite Yuusaku's reservations, I'm _glad_ we didn't take Shin-chan away to America back then," Yukiko confessed. "My poor boy would've wasted away alone in Hawaii waiting for a cure. I think he would've pined after you so terribly that we'd have to either send him back or clue you in so we could bring you for a visit. He wouldn't have survived long without you..." 

"When did _you_ find out, Obachan?" Ran asked hesitantly, rather startled at her own abrupt question. 

"Hm? Ah, some time ago...er, remember Conan Edogawa's mother?" 

"Oh, that woman--who was she? Did you ask her to come and act as his mother?" 

"No, dear, that _was_ me." 

Ran went silent for several moments. "Yukiko...obachan...?" 

"Ah, don't be so surprised! I _am_ an actress, after all, so the arts of cosmetics and disguise aren't completely unknown to me. A little mask here, a little padding there..." 

"Oh...ah...I see..." Ran was giggling, to her own surprise, finding it hard to reconcile the starched, pudgy woman with the slim, cheerful Yukiko Kudo. "That's amazing, Obachan!" 

"Thank you, Ran-chan...and I am sorry that I deceived you too. But that was when Yuusaku and I were planning to smuggle Shin-chan out of the country, and I thought it best to take him from you under safe, pleasant pretenses so you wouldn't worry." 

"I...I was actually _glad_ you'd come," Ran confessed. "I'd started worrying about Conan-kun's parents and how they never called...and I thought he'd be happy to go home with you at last." 

Yukiko laughed softly. "Actually, honey, I believe I scared him to death, coming out of nowhere and all but kidnapping him like that. He didn't recognize me, so I think he panicked--I know _I_ did, when he pulled that stunt in the middle of the road..." 

"Stunt?" 

"He's a _very_ resourceful young man, you know...he thought I was an agent, so he did whatever he could to escape from me. He caused a huge pile-up at the first major intersection we came to--he jumped on the gas pedal and sent us right into the middle of traffic! And then he dove right out of the car while all the traffic was still surging everywhere around us. My heart was racing--he's just a little thing, and I thought for sure he'd be hit...but he kept running and never slowed down." 

Ran's eyes were wide, astonished. "He did that...just to...?" 

"Just to get back to you, Ran-chan," Yukiko told her softly. "He was terrified, but determined to investigate the 'agents' and expose the Syndicate, so he could safely return to you. Yuusaku insisted that we test him, to see how he would handle a real encounter with _them_, and even though he failed against his father in the end, he proved himself quick-witted and capable. He didn't give up, even when his life was supposedly in danger." 

"I know what you mean, Obachan," Ran replied, her own voice full of tearful wonder, hearing the pride in the older woman's voice. "A while ago...when I lost my memory and a murderer was trying to kill me because I was a witness...Shinichi saved my life, because...he told me...there's no one on this Earth he loves more. I couldn't even remember him, but he still...he warned me, led me to safety, and even faced that man so I could escape. He was afraid--when he got close to me I could _feel_ his heart pounding--but it didn't stop him. And even though he's so small, he still protected me from that killer at the risk of his own life. Looking back, it's amazing he was able to do it...unarmed, holding off a man with a gun and keeping me alive and unharmed even when he got hurt... And so many other times, even now that he's little--he's risked drowning, gunfire, speeding trains, even bombs...so many impossible things that I still can't believe it sometimes..." 

"Yes...I've often been surprised at what he can do when he's angry or frightened," Yukiko confessed quietly. "He's been that way all his life--able to pull miracles out of the worst situations; saving lives, averting disasters, surviving incredible danger, doing the impossible just like his father did once, a long time ago. During those moments of life or death, when nothing else matters...that's when I can see clearly what he really is. No matter what training or manipulation or discipline--no matter how much Yuusaku tries to hide it, Shin-chan will always be..." 

Ran waited breathlessly as Yukiko paused, sighing sadly. 

"He's...well, he's something else, isn't he?" the older woman said after a moment. 

"Yes," Ran agreed, still wondering. 

"You're a lucky girl, Ran-chan," Yukiko instructed, lightening her tone a little. "There aren't many men like him in this world. He's so very, _very_ special, more than he knows..." 

"Obachan...?" 

Yukiko's lightness almost sounded forced. "Of course he's special--he's our Shin-chan, right? My darling son is the most exceptional young man in Japan!" 

"Yes, Obachan," Ran replied with a smile. "I'm glad he is, or I don't think he would've survived this whole thing." 

"You're very right," Yukiko agreed. "He's managed to stay sane through all this--with your help, remember--and still solve mysteries _and_ track down the Syndicate!" 

Ran laughed softly. "I'm not sure how much help I was--I was so busy enjoying my little brother that I don't think I was of much benefit to him. His whole situation was really uncomfortable, and I made it a lot worse with some of the things I did." 

"Oh, Ran-chan, it's not your fault." 

"I know, but...I'm sure I embarrassed him horribly whenever I talked about him in front of 'Conan-kun'-- and Sonoko was no help either. And any time I picked him up or hugged him..." Ran found herself blushing, remembering the many, _many_ times. "I'm sure he felt terribly awkward. And especially when I...I...oh my gosh...!" She broke off with a gasp, going crimson from the tips of her toes to the roots of her hair. 

"Goodness, Ran-chan, are you all right?" 

It was a few moments before she could speak, one particular memory leaping into sharp, mortifying focus in her mind. She gaped, at first too horrified for any other emotions to bubble up, but when they did--anger, embarassment, guilt, and disbelief came all at once, creating a logjam that backed things up somewhere between her brain and her mouth. 

"Ran-chan? Ran-chan, are you still there?" 

"I...I-I'm sorry, Obachan...I just...remembered..." It was rather hard to form words; vaguely she wondered if her tongue was blushing too--all the rest of her was red enough. 

"Did...something happen, honey?" 

"It...was a bath..." 

Yukiko went silent for a second. "Oh dear..." 

Ran gulped, suddenly rushing to explain herself. "I...we...all went to a hot spring, and took a bath there...and I decided bringing Conan-kun in would be fun, so I..." 

"Oh dear...oh _dear_..." Yukiko's voice sounded strange, as if she were somehow caught between incredulity and laughter. 

"...I took him in with me and...and I washed his hair, too...and then I made him stay there while I..." 

"Oh...my goodness...!" Yukiko's voice broke, either in disbelief or hilarity. "Ran-chan, he...he didn't do anything--?" 

"No! I...he..." Ran hesitated, still beet red. "Ah...I guess...it's my fault..." 

"Ran-chan...?" 

"I made him go in...when he didn't really want to," she confessed, her emotions still jumbled. "I _know_ it's because he didn't tell me the truth! But he did...protest, um, kind of desperately." 

At last, Yukiko burst out laughing--and even though she was upset, Ran was glad to hear such cheer from the older woman. "Goodness gracious! You poor kids...!" Yukiko gasped, nearly out of breath. "I'm terribly sorry, Ran-chan...but...he deserved that, he really did!" 

"He _deserved_ it?" Ran burst out, shocked. "He _saw_ me--!" 

"Which is something close to a cardinal sin, if you know Shin-chan," Yukiko put in, still breathless from laughter. "You have every right to be mad at him, honey, but be honest with yourself if you decide to punish him for it--he _is_ a gentleman, and he knows better than to peep on an unclothed lady. That's probably the reason he didn't want to go in there with you, hm?" 

"I...I guess you're right..." Ran admitted, thoughtful. A blushing smile grew on her face as she recalled the utter _panic_ on little "Conan's" face that day. "He was kicking and screaming like a cat that doesn't want a bath, and he spent the whole time either trying to get away from me or averting his eyes..." 

"My, but you _did_ put him through a fright! He certainly didn't want to do you any dishonor," Yukiko said with a little giggle. "But it wasn't _entirely_ unfair, was it? You got to see _him_, too." 

"Obachan...!" Ran gasped, a little startled that Shinichi's _mother_ could be so frank about it. Her crimson flush returned full force. "But...um...really...there wasn't much to see..." 

"Ah, yes...that dratted drug _is_ a problem." Yukiko sighed exaggeratedly. "A pity, isn't it?" 

Ran wondered if it were possible to spontaneously combust if one's face grew too warm. "Um..." 

"Do calm down, Ran-chan--I won't force you to be _too_ honest," Yukiko assured her--and Ran could almost hear the deviltry in her voice. "But if you really _do_ need to..._chastise_ him for that, just mention it and watch him squirm. I promise you it will be _most_ satisfactory." 

Ran burst out in a giggle before she could catch herself. Even her own embarrassment right now would be _nothing_ to what Shinichi would feel if she reminded him that she hadn't forgotten that incident. After all...it was his own fault, and he knew it--_she_ had been perfectly innocent. "Thanks. I'll remember that, Obachan," she replied. "And I _won't_ be dragging him into any more baths." 

"I'm sure you won't," Yukiko laughed. 

_Except maybe someday in the near future,_ piped that shameless little voice in Ran's head, _when he's back to his true age and really **worth** dragging into a bath._

* * * * *

"I _swear_ I'm going to get back at you for that," Shinichi grumbled, walking alongside his cousin with a sulky look. They were nearly to the Mouri Detective Agency; the sun was just below the horizon and their shadows had begun to fade into the evening dimness. 

Kaito just grinned down at the small boy beside him, hands in his pockets with a perfectly relaxed air. "Should I hold my breath?" 

"If I get you anywhere near open water, you should," the little boy shot back, turning his nose up crossly. "Especially since your head's going to be under it. I thought I made it _clear_--no hoisting without asking first!" 

"Ah, but you _did_ ask for it." 

"What?" Shinichi gaped indignantly. "I did _not!_" 

"Hey, shorty, if you provoke, expect retribution." 

"_Retribution?_ You dangled me over the bridge rails by my ankles!" 

Kaito's grin got considerably broader. "What are you complaining about? You got off easy! You didn't get _wet_, did you? You should be glad I've got a strong grip. Or that you're such a lightweight." 

"You..." Shinichi scowled, pouting, giving the youth a side-eyed glare. "I _will_ get you for that. Somehow, someday, when you least expect it." 

"Oooh, look at me shaking." Kaito whistled a merry tune as he strode along, adopting a manner of complete nonchalance. 

"How can you be so damn _cheerful_ all the time?" Shinichi demanded after a moment, exasperated with his cousin's easy air. 

"Why are you always so damn serious?" Kaito shot back, unruffled, as they turned the corner to the street that led to the Agency. "You get so wigged-out over the littlest things. If you're not careful, you'll make the record books by becoming the first seven-year-old to get a stress-related aneurysm." 

"Ha ha ha." The little boy snorted, unchildlike, and shoved his own hands into his pockets. "If I don't take things seriously, they start to go haywire. I've got _no room_ for joking around in my situation. It's no fun in the first place, and there's lives on the line." 

"I hear you there," Kaito agreed. "Stay serious, but learn to laugh at things once in a while. You _did_ have fun at the park--I caught you giggling when you ran under the monkey bars and I crashed into them!" The teen rubbed the tender spot on his head ruefully. 

"I did not _giggle_." 

"All little squeakers giggle, _Conan-kun_." Kaito grinned again, and winked at him. "Come on, loosen up. If you can't take yourself lightly, I don't know how you cope." 

"_You_ try it sometime and see if you feel like lightening up!" Shinichi challenged. 

Kaito shrugged. "I've got lives on the line in my business too, you know. But I've learned to be able to laugh at myself and my situation--if I didn't, I figure my life would be pretty bleak right now. You're right; sometimes what we do is _no_ joking matter, and during those times we've gotta buckle down. But there's another side to it, Shinichi." 

"Huh?" 

"In the not-so-serious times, if you can't find the will to smile, laugh, and enjoy what you _do_ have, then your whole existence becomes empty," Kaito explained, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "You become your mission, nothing more than a machine with one goal. No room for feelings, friends, family..." He hesitated, glancing down at the small boy. "That kind of life is meaningless. It's the kind of life _they_ live, slaves to their ambitions." 

Shinichi stared at him for long moments as they walked, surprised that his cousin had brought up something so profound. "Yeah," he admitted after a while. "You're right. I'm glad I've got Ran and the others--my family, my friends..." A smile spread across his mouth, surprising the teen beside him. "Even you...though you're a major pain in the ass..." 

Kaito chuckled. "I am, aren't I? Takes one to know one, kiddo." 

Shinichi impishly stuck out his tongue, spurred by an odd impulse. Kaito knuckled him lightly on the head, laughing as they came to a stop just one building away from the Detective Agency. 

"Watch it, short stuff--your face might freeze like that," the youth warned lightly, chuckling. "Well, guess I'd better head home." 

Shinichi blinked, withdrawing his tongue. "Why--?" 

Kaito shrugged. "Guess I'm just not too comfortable about detectives. Oh, except you." 

"Aw, Jisan can't do anything--he's probably passed out drunk upstairs anyway..." 

"Yeah, but do I want to be mistaken for you by a drunk, half-asleep, overprotective father?" Kaito retorted with a grin. 

Shinichi had to snicker. "I guess you're right. See you, then." 

"I'll catch you later," Kaito replied with a grin. "Take care now!" 

With that, his cousin headed off back down the sidewalk in the direction of the bus station. Shinichi watched him until he disappeared around the corner, then turned and hurried the rest of the way home. Ran was waiting for him, and he wouldn't--_couldn't_ disappoint her. 

He knew he was rushing to get to her, even though what he'd promised to tell her could mean his own doom. Still, despite his nervousness, he hurried up the stairs all the way to the third floor, bursting in the door and calling out, "Ran-neechan! I'm home!" 

"Downstairs, boy," Kogoro growled from his pillow on the floor in front of the TV. 

"Huh? Oh..." Wondering briefly why Ran was in her father's office at this hour, Conan turned to hustle back down one flight, turning sharply and doing the familiar little hop-twist that allowed him to open the door. Inside, he could hear Ran's voice chatting agreeably with someone--then spotted her sitting at her father's desk, using the telephone. 

"...you're right, I'll definitely do it. But honestly, I don't think I'll _ever_ be able to go into another hot spring without blushing!" 

"Ran-neechan?" 

Ran jumped with a gasp, turning to him with wide eyes and red cheeks. "Oh! Sorry--he just got here. Yes..." Pausing her telephone conversation, she covered the mouthpiece to speak to him. "Hello, Shinichi," she greeted quietly, a rather unusual smile on her face. "Your mother's on the phone--we've just been having the most _wonderful_ conversation..." 

"It's Mom?" he gulped, eyes widening. _Oh boy...Ran's having a "conversation" with my mother. Should I be worried...? Wait, she said--hot spring? Oh...oh, **that**. I was hoping she forgot. Shit...this is worse than bad. Ran and Mom discussing the single most embarassing moment of my **life**--and Ran's probably **beyond** pissed about it...!_ "Uh...great!" he offered nervously. "I hope you're enjoying yourselves. Um, Ran, I'll just be waiting upstairs, so whenever you're done..." He turned to leave, sweat already trickling down his temple. 

"Hold it _right there_, mister," Ran barked. 

He froze. _I'm dead. Dead, dead, dead...just sic Gin on me right now, 'cause at this point he'd be **much** kinder...!_

"Your mother wants to talk to you." 

Shinichi blinked, for one moment completely thrown for a loop, having expected something _dire_ out of Ran in regards to the rather awkward subject of the hot spring "incident." Almost surprised that he was still breathing, he turned hesitantly to look at her. "Um...oh..." 

"Whatever's the matter with you?" Ran asked him primly, shaking her head as she returned once more to her conversation. "I'm still here, Obachan. Yes...thank you..." She giggled softly. "You're right...he looks like someone smacked him between the eyes with a board! ... Oh, not at all! Thanks for the advice. ... You're welcome too. .... Good night, Obachan." 

With that, she handed the phone to a very wide-eyed Shinichi, giving him a girlish smile. "I'll be waiting for you," she said pleasantly, gliding out of the office. 

_Uh-oh....I **know** I'm gonna get it when she corners me tonight..._ Shinichi stared after her for several long seconds, perplexed--until he remembered the telephone in his hand. "Oh...uh...hello Mom..." 

His mother's voice bubbled over the line, all cheer and concern. "Shin-chan! There you are. How was your talk with Kaito-kun, sweetie?" 

"Um...good, I guess..." He decided not to mention the more...rambunctious parts, nor the blatant disregard for Rule Five--especially since it was rather embarrassing. "How are you?" 

"Fine, fine..." Yukiko hesitated. "I was worried about you, Shin-chan. I know you were fairly upset when you left..." 

"I'm okay now, Mom. Having Kaito around to talk to really helps." 

"I'm glad." Once again, his mother's voice faded. "Honey, you know I didn't agree with your father about separating you two boys, or about all those secrets..." 

"Mom, it's okay. Really," he assured her. "Kaito and I are getting along great--" _--when he's not threatening to dunk me in a canal--_ "--and we're already making plans for working together." 

"That's good to hear. I do hope you're both very careful...Fumiyo and I would be upset if something happened to you two. Not to mention Yuusaku would say, 'I told you so.'" 

"Yes, Mom." Shinichi Kudo wasn't a detective for nothing--and he knew his mother well enough to recognize when she was unhappy, even when she was trying to hide it. "Tell me the truth...are you really all right?" 

"Of course!" Yukiko replied quickly. 

"_Mom_..." 

After a long moment, she sighed softly, her previous cheer melting away. "_Why_ do you have to be so perceptive? I'd almost think you were an empath. You're worse than your father..." 

"Mom...I just know you too well." He frowned, clambering up to sit in the desk chair. "Is Dad still angry with me? Is he mad at you because of it?" 

"Shin-chan, it's not your fault--it is _not_ your fault..." 

His mother's voice broke suddenly, startling him. He'd known she was unhappy, but he hadn't known it was this bad! "Mom? What happened?" 

"_Nothing_, honey," Yukiko asserted. "We're just having a disagreement about this. You know your father and me...we're always squabbling over _something_..." 

Shinichi hesitated, worried and unsure. "But...he doesn't make you cry, Mom. Not when you're just squabbling." 

"It's just because this is...a lot more emotionally taxing. You _know_ this is more serious than usual." 

"If it's _that_ serious, do you want me to come and--?" 

Yukiko's voice broke in hurriedly. "_No_, Shin-chan--you've got to stay there. Stay with Ran-chan...you're safer there where you're supposed to be--you're Conan-chan, and I'm just your Obasan, remember?" 

He gritted his teeth. "No, you're my _mother_--and I can't just turn away from you!" 

"Oh...oh, sweetheart..." Yukiko sniffed, a soft audible sob. "I'm so sorry...I _know_. But you're also my baby, and can't turn away from you, either. So you stay there with Ran-chan where you're _safe_, and don't worry about me. Your father and I will settle this--it's not your fault, it's really between him and me, and you needn't get involved..." 

"Mom, it isn't--" 

"Shin-chan, _listen_ to me." Yukiko's voice, though tearful, held a note of command; a mother's voice, giving a stern order to her child--a directive which had to be followed without question. 

But he _did_ question--although he didn't speak it aloud--and though his instincts demanded he rebel to protect her, his mother's gentle authority _still_ had the power to make him obey. "Yes, Mom..." 

"Good boy." Yukiko took a breath, her tone calming slightly. "Besides, I think Ran is expecting you to talk to her as well...you two _do_ have a lot to work out, you know." 

"Yeah," he admitted, unwilling to change the subject. "First I've gotta survive until she's not mad at me for the whole Conan thing..." 

"You'll be fine, honey--believe me, I was just talking to her. She cares about you a great deal." 

"Yeah..." He couldn't help his smile. "But she still gets mad at the people she cares about." 

"She gets angry _because_ she cares, Shin-chan," his mother told him gently. "If you meant nothing to her, there'd be nothing for her to be angry about." 

"I know." Still reluctant to leave the subject of his mother's well-being, he frowned once again. "Mom, I'm...really worried about you." 

Yukiko sighed, almost exasperated. "I'm _fine_--just a little upset. You don't need to be concerned. It's sweet of you, but I'm a big girl--I've been looking out for myself since long before you were ever around to worry about me." 

"Yeah, but..." He flushed. "I can't help feeling that this is somehow my fault." 

"_No_." Her firm tone startled him--but so did the sadness in it. "It's _not_ your fault, Shin-chan. Don't you _ever_ blame yourself for this. This has been going on between Yuusaku and Toichi for years, and it's not because of you or Kaito-kun--so don't you _ever_ hold yourself responsible, do you understand?" 

"Yes, Mom," he responded smartly, surprised. 

After a pause, Yukiko spoke again. "I'm sorry, honey, but I've got to go--your father and I...still have things to discuss. I'll try to call you again tomorrow. You stay there and be good, okay?" 

"Um...okay. But...Mom...?" 

"Shin-chan, I'm all right." 

"Mom..." 

"I love you, sweetie." 

"Mom, I...I love you too." 

"Good night!" 

"'Night..." 

Still worried and confused, he hung up the phone and sat for a few minutes, running the conversation over and over in his mind, all the while becoming more and more concerned. There was something just _not right_ about his mother's voice--he _knew_ she was unhappy and he _knew_ she was trying to hide it, but he had the feeling that she was somehow concealing something more distressing than a mere "disagreement" between herself and his father. As if she'd been more than just unhappy--_heartbroken_, even--but adamantly refused to tell him. 

Brows drawn down with apprehension, he scooted off the desk chair and headed out of the office, turning out lights and locking the door as he went. Ran would be starting dinner soon, and after that, he had to tell her... 

Upstairs, Kogoro was still sprawled on the floor--asleep this time--and Ran wasn't in the kitchen. So he tiptoed past the snoring man and knocked on her door. 

"Come in," answered her muffled voice. He steeled himself with a deep breath, swallowed hard, and opened the door. Her room was brightly lit this time, and she was sitting at her desk doing homework; when he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, she turned around to smile at him. "Well, hello, Conan-kun." 

"Hi." He tried a cheerful smile but failed miserably, settling insead for a sort of sad tightening of his lips. 

She noticed his melancholy right away, gesturing at her bed. "Have a seat...but I've got to start dinner soon, so don't get too comfortable." 

The hop up to her bed was getting familiar. He perched himself on the end of it, sighing as he settled in. She gazed at him for a few moments, her brows lowering with conern. "How did it go?" she asked softly. 

He sat still for a while, thinking, his small face scrunched with muted dismay. "I think..." he began softly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid to say it. "I think my parents are fighting." 

"Oh...!" Ran's eyes widened. "Is it...very bad? Yukiko-obachan didn't say anything to me..." 

"I don't know," he confessed rather miserably. "She wouldn't tell me either. But...I think it's a _real_ fight this time, not their usual silly bickering. Mom was really upset, but she just wouldn't tell me anything." 

"I'm sure she's okay," Ran was quick to assure him. "And...your parents _do_ quarrel about things sometimes. I'm sure they'll be fine." 

"She kept telling me it's not my fault," he murmured. "Like she's worried that's what I'd think..." 

Ran frowned, a memory of her own making her shiver--something with tears and loneliness and _it wasn't her fault, she wasn't to blame_--as she watched him pick at the bedspread, withdrawn. "Shinichi, even I tell you not to blame yourself for things that aren't your fault." 

"I know that--but I can't help how I _feel_," he retorted, glancing up at her. "All of this happened because I decided to side with Kaito..." 

"But--" 

"Ran...I haven't _told_ you yet," Shinichi interrupted quietly. "You don't understand what this is about. It's a lot bigger than just my age problem." 

"Does it have to do with Kuroba-kun and the Organization?" Ran asked hesitantly. 

"Yeah...and way deeper. My whole family's involved in this--it's bigger than even _I_ thought it was..." He looked up at her again. "Did my mom tell you anything when you talked?" 

"No," she replied. "And even if she _did_ mention something, I didn't catch it. You're right...I _don't_ understand. But I want to. Shinichi, I want to help you." 

"Thanks..." He gave a rueful smile. "I just hope you'll still want to help me after you hear this." 

Ran frowned at him, a bit miffed that he'd think her _that_ shallow. Putting on a haughty air, she turned up her nose and spoke somewhat huffily. "Well, if I can 'still want to help you' even after you saw me in the hot spring, I'm pretty sure my feelings for you will survive whatever you're going to tell me." 

Through her act, she kept one eye open for his reaction. _Wow...Obachan was right. Squirm, Shinichi, squirm!_

Bright red, he gaped at her, his mouth working frantically. He was practically waving his arms, his childish voice squawking brokenly as he scrabbled for an excuse. "Ah...ah...I...didn't...wasn't...I'd never...couldn't...I swear...!" 

It was so hilarious she couldn't hold back her laughter any longer. Though her own cheeks were flushed, Shinichi's whole face had turned tomato-red, and his eyes were so large they seemed to fill the frames of his glasses. He stared at her in disbelief as she giggled, his jaw still hanging open, somehow unable to comprehend that she was _laughing_--when he probably expected her to pound him into a Conan-sized serving of pudding. 

"I wish you could see yourself," Ran giggled, wiping her eyes. "You look _just_ like you did then!" 

"Aaaaagh!" he finally groaned rather incoherently, flopping over backwards on her bed to lay limply in utter and complete humiliation. "Just shoot me now..._please_...Mom's never gonna let me hear the end of it, and you're mad to boot...!" 

Ran hid her tiny snicker behind prim ire. "I _am_ the one who made you go in--but I wouldn't've done that if you'd told me the truth. It's all your fault." 

"I know, I _know_," Staring at the ceiling so he wouldn't have to look at _her_, he rubbed his forehead with one hand, ruffling his bangs. "But I wasn't exactly _thinking_ about that at the time..." 

"Well then, what _were_ you thinking about?" Ran asked, leaning forward--and feeling rather mischiveous after her conversation with Yukiko. "I hope you weren't thinking of taking advantage of my ignorance--" 

"_No way!_ I'd _never--!_" he blurted sharply, then checked his volume with a gulp. "Uh...well..." 

To be completely accurate, _Escape Now_ had been his first and foremost priority the _instant_ he'd realized what she was about to do. But by then she'd already gotten a grip on him, and resisting became a matter of strength and weight, which he, of course, was sorely lacking in comparison to her. His only recourse had become a verbal protest--and a rather noisy one at that--but despite his shrill, desperate, hysterical objections, he'd still been forcibly compelled to accompany her into the hot spring. 

And accompany her he had, even though he'd been wriggling like an eel and employing escape tactics he'd never thought to use against even his most agressive captors in emergencies past; he hadn't even known he could move like that, but desperation had driven him to unusual extremes. Some shock-detatched part of him had wondered if she was part octopus, because she managed to keep her hold on him despite his best efforts to free himself. And then--_then_, good grief, she'd taken off her robe to start washing, _still_ somehow maintaining her grip _and_ peeling him out of his own covering. How she'd managed _that_ he couldn't remember clearly, having been focused on getting away, but when she did... 

_When she did, his panic somehow reached new magnitudes, because the situation had become absolutely, terrifyingly **wrong**. He didn't so much care about his own clothes, but she was **Ran**, she was a girl--no, dammit, very much a **woman**--and he wasn't supposed to be here. He wasn't really a little kid and she didn't know, so she was innocently causing herself disgrace by dragging him in--it was **his** fault and shit what could he **do--?** He was going to curl up and die of mortification, he just knew it--if he didn't give himself away and she didn't kill him first. If she ever **did** find out, he was a dead man--so in the interests of her honor and his own survival, he struggled valiantly to escape.  
  
**She** just thought Conan-kun was being shy, so she kept her grip on his wrist and pulled him over by the soap--while he was frantically keeping his eyes anywhere but on her and trying to keep a proper distance. He was trying to be **good**--trying to beat back the adolescent male part of him that he'd wrestled down and locked in a safe in the bottom of his mind ever since he'd become small and Ran started **holding** him all the time--but it was **really** hard when that part was trying to get out of its box and start up a cheering section, even as he attempted to clamp down on every urge but the one to get away. It was wrong and he knew it--he wasn't supposed to be here, it was shameful and dishonorable--she wasn't **his** yet and he had **no** right to see her--he had to get out before something happened that would ruin **everything**--  
  
Something **did**: She held him close and washed his hair, smiling sweetly the entire damn time--and she was just **too** close for his already-strained emotions. It was a miracle his cranium didn't spontaneously combust from the heat in his face, and if he didn't escape from her soon he was going to embarrass himself even more. At this point he was willing to go dashing completely nude and screaming bloody murder through the resort hallways if it meant he could escape **this** mortifying situation--if she wanted to come after him she'd **have** to put her robe back on--but that would only work if he could get out of arms' reach. He never stopped trying to get away from her--but it just kept getting worse. The more he struggled, the tighter she held him--and the tighter she held him, the harder struggling got; the more he flailed, the more they touched, and his nerves jolted every time their skin brushed.  
  
Somewhere along the line, his brain had finally overloaded and he'd he'd surrendered in despair, his thrashing giving way to despondent compliance as he just let her do what she wanted with a minimum of contact. The entire thing had simply become more than his untried mind could handle--corpses and maniacs and life or death situations were one thing, but a bath with Ran was something **totally** beyond his capacity to deal with. At last believing him to be calmed, she dragged him into the warm water and sat down to soak for a while--mercifully relieving him of that near-irresistible view--pulling him over to sit beside her. He kept his eyes firmly on his toes in the water, avoided contact with her wherever possible, and waited miserably for it to be over._

"Um...I was thinking....I wanted to get the hell out of that spring," he mumbled sheepishly. "I was more scared than anything else...and I wasn't _trying_ to see you..." 

Ran cocked an eyebrow at him, relishing the chance to tease him despite her own discomfiture. "Are you sure? I think you could've gotten away if you really _wanted_ to..." 

"Are you kidding?" he blurted in disbelief, sitting straight up off the bed to stare at her. "Not the way you held me down! Whatever I tried I'd end up--!" 

Ran smiled, pink at the cheeks and trying not to laugh at his indignant embarrassment. "But what about when you settled down? I thought you'd started enjoying the bath." 

Shinichi scowled peevishly, wishing rather fervently he could hide under the bed. "It's more like I _gave up_. I think I went into shock." 

"Maybe I should've listened to Conan-kun," Ran offered, though he could see she was still amused at his blush. 

"It would've saved me the heart failure," he muttered, still red-faced and glaring sullenly at the floor. 

"What's that?" she demanded. 

"Oh...uh...nothing!" he was quick to reply, pasting on the best cute-little-innocent smile he could muster under the circumstances. "Just...talking to myself!" 

"Hm..." She regarded him sternly--but with an impish glimmer in her eyes--for several seconds before standing up. "Well, I should go get dinner started. You've got a lot of explaining to do, mister, and if I don't want Dad or hungry stomachs interrupting us I'd better feed them." 

"Uh...yeah!" he readily agreed, hopping down from the bed and following her from the bedroom, ready to help in the kitchen. He heaved a mental sigh of relief, glad that she had _finally_ dropped that awful subject. Damn, that little incident always replayed itself in his mind in full sound and color--blush included--whenever he was reminded of it. It would never have happened if he wasn't small _or_ if he'd told Ran the truth--but he'd still gotten enough accidental eyefulls of her to last him well into the next year, and that made him feel even worse. 

_Hell, I could hardly look her in the eye for **days** afterward,_ he thought uncomfortably. _And **she** kept asking me what was wrong--and I couldn't exactly just tell her. Plus I knew she'd be really mad if she ever found out--which she has, but the weirdest thing is...she isn't mad. Or...is she?_

In the kitchen, just out sight of her sleeping father, Ran finally turned to him, a _very_ pleasant smile on her face--which made him freeze warily. Bending at the waist, she brought her face close to his so that only he could hear her quiet words. 

"Remember, I'm still a bit upset at you about this whole thing, even though I've forgiven you," she said in a sweet, soft tone. "I'm not _mad_ about the hot spring, especially since I spoke to Yukiko-obachan...but...if I hear that you've taken improper advantage of your situation in regards to _other_ ladies' modesty, I _will_ get very angry with you." 

His jaw dropped. "Uh-huh..." he managed, nodding vigorously as she smiled kindly and went on with her dinner preparations. Somewhat terrified once again, he decided to clear out of the kitchen entirely, not stopping until he reached the bedroom he shared with Kogoro. Once there, he leaned against the wall, one hand pressed to his sweaty forehead. 

"Ugh..." he moaned, already feeling fatigued. _Between my parents, Kaito, the hot spring, and telling Ran tonight...I don't think I'll survive 'til morning._

"...I'll _never_ make it to Saturday..." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ Hiya! Here's another one...sorry it took so long--this File gave me fits! It's hard to write humor when there's angst on the way... *ahem!* Anyway, File 16's in the works right now, hopefully done soon! By the way, if anyone knows how Ran **really** addresses Yukiko Kudo, (Obasan, Obachan, Bachan, Yukiko-san) I'd appreciate the info! ^_^ Thanks!_


	16. House of Cards

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 16: House of Cards**

Kaito Kuroba made it home in good time, kicking off his shoes and bounding into the house, loudly announcing his arrival. "Yo Mom, I'm home! What's cooking?" 

"Hello, Kaito!" Fumiyo called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready, and--" 

"_Kaitoooo!_" 

"--Aoko-chan's here!" 

Kaito had already pulled up short at the dining room door, frozen like a deer in the headlights as Aoko Nakamori confronted him with a scowling face. "A-A-Aoko!" he croaked, _not_ expecting to see her at this hour, in his house, on a weekend. "Uh, fancy meeting you here..." 

"Yeah," the girl retorted, obviously in a _fine_ mood. "You've been so scarce I never thought I'd run into you in your own house." 

"In my house--?" 

"Yeah, you know, the place you live?" the girl continued sarcastically. "The place I've been calling all day trying to talk to you?" 

Kaito blinked, steadily regaining his composure; Aoko Nakamori just happened to be one of the _very_ few people in the world able to make him loose his cool--his uncle being an unhappy new addition to those ranks--but no matter the situation he always got back on his feet in a hurry. "Oh...I was just out and about. It's a real nice day, you know--" 

"Yes, I know," she shot back, "and when I can't find you on such a nice day I start to wonder if something happened to you! I've been waiting for you all day! Where have you been?" 

"Why, Aoko..." he said smoothly, quickly thinking up something to distract her from pointed questions. "I didn't think you'd pine for me so terribly after a single date--" 

"A single date?" Aoko exploded. "You egotistical baka! Whoever said I went on a date with you? I don't know why I bother to worry--!" 

_Bingo,_ he thought with a grin. _Now I don't have to explain where I was--no need for her to know!_ He ducked as the fiery girl reached out and brought the nearest swingable object into her tirade--unfortunately for her, Fumiyo didn't keep mops in the hallway, so the best she got was a feather duster. But when wielded by Aoko Nakamori, even feather dusters were lethal. 

He jumped over her second swing--the duster was shorter but lighter and faster--and vaulted into the dining room, tossing a smart remark over his shoulder as she came after him, face alight with indignation. That was part of the reason she actually managed to nail him on occasion--it wasn't that he was _letting_ her hit him, but she was unexpectedly dazzling when she was all lit-up and angry, and he couldn't look where he was going when his eyes got stuck on her. 

She sure was an unpredictable girl, as spontaneous as he was. Such fire and strength--and she was only trying to vent her frustrations on him! He truly pitied anyone whom she _really_ wanted to kill. 

He'd only start worrying about _himself_ if she ever got any formal training. 

"Aoko-chan, do mind the lamps and my flower vase, please!" Fumiyo called from the other room. "And Kaito, stay out of the kitchen for now!" 

"Yes, ma'am!" both replied, neither breaking the rhythm of swoosh-leap-swat-jump-swing-duck. And somehow, none of Kaito's acrobatics brought him within range of the aforementioned fragiles. 

Fumiyo's arrival with dinner trays in hand signaled that it was time for a cease-fire; eyes alight with enjoyment, Kaito ducked over to help his mother with her burdens, forcing Aoko to disarm or risk the older woman's disapproval. Face still flushed from exertion, she set down her feathered weapon and sat politely at her place, her original complaints forgotten. She watched Kaito move smoothly around the table, a faint smile appearing on her face as he juggled the dishes into their proper settings. 

Somehow he got everything in the right place, unbroken and unspilled, despite the chaotic-looking display. He grinned at her through the whirl of cups and bowls, something softening in his gaze as he saw her smile. The circular juggle suddenly turned to a double figure eight, and Aoko got the distinct impression that he was showing off _just for her_... 

"Put the rice by the chicken," Fumiyo told her son calmly as she sat down, gently breaking the moment between the two youngsters. "And don't burn yourself on the teapot." 

"Yes, Mom..." The young magician winked at Aoko, grinning again; the rice decelerated and scooted into place with hardly a jostle, and the teapot was caught neatly by the handle as his left hand kept the three teacups and two rice bowls lofting in the air. "Didn't spill a drop," he announced, reaching to set the pot down. 

But as his attention slid from the flying china to the teapot, one of the delicate, pretty teacups--hand-painted with cherry blossoms and soft spring leaves--faltered in its graceful arc, missing his hand and shattering on the floor. 

"_Dammit!_" 

Aoko gasped at his outburst; suddenly, his carefree face was all sharp with consternation and dismay. The teapot clattered to the tabletop when he released it, luckily landing without harm--both hands went to the still-flying objects, realigning the whirl from figure-eights to single circle and snatching piece after piece out of the air to set them carefully on the table. 

When everything was down, there was silence. Aoko's hands were over her mouth and she was wide-eyed and staring--mostly because she'd never seen Kaito get upset at such an accident before. He was the consummate magician--never show the audience that you've made a mistake, never lose your cool, never miss a beat. But now he was kneeling on the floor, frantically collecting the pieces of the teacup he'd dropped. 

Fumiyo's face showed nothing but amused, affectionate resignation, despite Kaito's obvious distress. "It's all right, Kaito. Let's eat dinner first, and worry about that later. Aoko-chan's waiting." 

"Obasan..." Aoko protested. 

Kaito looked up, his hands full of shards and his eyes full of sorrows. "But...Mom...these are the ones Dad got you for your birthday. One for each of us, a set of three..." Which was now a set of _two_ thanks to his showboating. 

"Don't look so tragic," Fumiyo responded softly. "It was an accident--and it's not like we _need_ three cups on a regular basis. Throw the pieces in the trash and sit down to eat. Bring another cup with you when you come back." 

Flinching, Kaito goggled at her, aghast at the thought of throwing the precious pieces in the garbage can. "But...but...I could glue it...!" 

Fumiyo shook her head sadly, still smiling. "Come now, you know that wouldn't do. You can glue it back together but it still won't be usable--the glue won't hold boiling water, or last through heat expansion." 

Defeated, Kaito drooped, staring at the shards in his hands. "Oh, yeah..." 

"Honestly, it's all right, Kaito," his mother continued. "Go on--go take care of the pieces and bring back a spare cup so we can begin." 

"Sure..." He picked the last few pieces off the floor, cradling them carefully as he rose and hurried toward the kitchen. Behind him, Fumiyo distracted Aoko by politely inquiring after her father and his work. Usually an amusing subject for Kaito, at this point all he felt was a sort of sad weariness; after breaking his mother's precious teacup and the row with Ojisan that morning, Aoko's reply about Inspector Nakamori's most recent attempt to snare Kid only reminded him of the terrible secret that stood between himself and his friend. 

Sometimes Shinichi's feelings on not telling Ran about Conan became a little more understandable at moments like these--but his own secrecy was just to save his hide, not her life... 

At the trash can in the kitchen he paused, just about to drop the pieces. He stared at them for a moment, at the delicate brush strokes and soft colors scored by jagged ceramic edges, jumbled into broken shards of a once-peaceful image. In that instant he whirled away from the garbage, reaching into a drawer for a plastic sandwich bag. Carefully placing the pieces within, he furtively hid them in a high cupboard behind the good china, where his mother was unlikely to look. 

"Kaito, we're waiting!" his mother called from the other room, making him jump like a guilty thief--like he never did even when he _was_ guilty of stealing. 

"Coming!" Hustling away from the china cupboard, he grabbed a new teacup and headed back out to the dining room. His Poker Face was in place once more; by the time Aoko saw him again he was his usual smiling, goofy, outgoing self, as if nothing had happened. 

He joined the meal like that, smiling on the outside, hiding any pain he felt behind the magician's mask his father had taught him. He laughed and joked, teased Aoko about her father's ineffectiveness, apologized when his mother told him to, and acted the part of a perfectly happy Kaito. 

Even if he was remorseful about the cup, and felt even worse about the confrontation that morning, no one could ever truly know just how much. Not his mother, who knew more of him than anyone else--and especially not Aoko...though to hide his heart from her behind a masquerade of games had begun to hurt more and more with every passing day. 

* * * * *

Conan made sure that Kogoro Mouri was snoring loudly and continuously before he ventured out of bed. As he slipped noislessly out of his little futon, he made a conscious decision to leave his glasses behind. There was no need for them where he was headed, and it wasn't Conan Edogawa who was going to speak to Ran. 

Soundless, he padded through the door, careful not to let the latch click loudly. At Ran's room, he knocked softly, entering upon her quiet invitation. He stepped inside, showing equal care with her door. Nervously meeting her eyes, he stood hesitantly there just inside her door as she regarded him from her seat on her bed. It was a strange replay of the night before; their positions were nigh perfectly the same. 

Ran turned on her bedside lamp, surprised to see "Conan" without his glasses. It was so rare an occurrance--but less infrequent now that she knew. She _also_ knew that he would never do this for anyone else--never take off his disguise, never remove the only outward symbol of the childish mask he wore. She could see his eyes so clearly without the shifting reflections in the clear glass lenses; his gaze was nervous, uncertain, sincere, unguarded--as if he were saying, _"Look, this is me, I'm not hiding from you."_

He was Shinichi only for _her_. 

She smiled at him, hoping to relieve his obvious tentativeness. Silent, she gestured for him to come and sit--and just as he had last night, he hesitated before moving to her bedside, dropping off his slippers and hopping up to the edge. 

Tense, Shinichi perched himself on the bed a good distance from her, where he could look her in the eye without having to crane his neck back. It also put him well out of arms' reach, but he wasn't even sure himself whether that was for his own protection or to keep her from reaching out to him. He'd found her embrace last night very reassuring, despite their embarrassment, but tonight he somehow felt as if he didn't deserve to be comforted. 

There was no need for introductions or explanations; they both knew what he was here for--both knew the silence would be broken next by secrets. He held her gaze for some time before dropping his eyes, his hands clenching uneasily. "I don't really even know where to begin," he confessed softly at last. "So much has happened in the last few days..." 

"I won't rush you," Ran replied, sitting back against her pillow and gathering her legs up comfortably. She knew he was being honest--perhaps even painfully so--and she knew that now was not the time for pushing or demands. 

His eyes flickered with gratitude. "Okay...well...I guess it all blew up on Wednesday, last week--you remember, the day I didn't go to school?" 

Ran nodded. "I remember. That day, you left your books at Professor Agasa's, and you--both of you--asked me if I'd still..." She stopped with a soft gasp, eyes widening. 

"Yeah," he responded fatalistically. "I'd just done something really bad...but we'll get to that soon enough." He gathered his own legs up on the bedspread, Indian-style, facing her directly. "I learned the truth that day--or I stumbled on it. Or...I got _hit_ with it..." He trailed off with a faint, rather fatalistic chuckle. 

"You'd better hurry up and tell me _something_," Ran said, half joking, "because I've already imagined enough to give me nightmares for weeks. The truth can't be nearly as bad as what I'm guessing." 

He shrugged faintly. "All a matter of opinion, I guess..." 

"What is it, then?" 

"To start with..." He looked up at her, eyes bright with combined fear and determination. "I'm not Shinichi Kudo." 

"_What?_" That thought almost frightened her--so soon after learning the truth about Conan, the thought of losing her Shinichi...! 

He lowered his eyes again. "I didn't even know it, but I've been living under _two_ aliases now, not one. 'Conan Edogawa' was the one I made up for you, because of the Organization and what happened, but 'Shinichi Kudo'..." 

She was so pale in the dim lamplight that she almost looked like a ghost. "What are you saying, Shinichi? What do you...?" 

He shook his head, anxious and frustrated. "I'm not making any sense, am I? It hardly makes sense to _me_--I've barely started to put it together in my head...it's hard to just explain it." He took a deep breath, concentrating. "I found a birth certificate in the attic of my house--_my_ birth certificate...with my _real name_." His voice trembled now, but he pressed on, determined to see it through before he lost all his nerve. "My real name...is _Kuroba_. Not Kudo. Shinichi Kuroba." 

Ran gasped, sitting straight up in disbelief. "No way--Kuroba--like _Kaito_ Kuroba? Is it--were you adopted--and he's really your _brother--?_" 

"No." Shinichi actually let out a snort of laughter, amusedly startled at her first guess. "But I know why you'd think so." 

"He looks so much like you..." Ran relaxed a little, heaving a shaky sigh. "For a second, I thought for sure you were twins or something." 

"If I was just adopted, I wouldn't be so upset--" Shinichi shook his head, cutting himself off. "Kaito and I really are cousins. Our fathers are brothers." 

"I thought Yukiko-obachan and Kuroba-kun's mom were sisters, and that's why your last names are different..." Ran trailed off, blinking in sudden realization. "But they're _not_ really--if your name is _Kuroba_, then--!" 

"--Then so is my father's." Shinichi folded his hands in his lap to keep them from fidgeting; they were already shaking enough. "That's the hidden truth, Ran. He changed his name--_our_ names, Mom and me, too--and forged all our papers. He changed everything, and made Mom promise not to tell. And my whole life, I never knew..." 

"I see." Ran kept her voice studiously neutral. As the daughter of a detective, she knew a few things about changing names, forging identities, and even the reasons people did such things. Despite the best of intentions, such falsification of records _was_ illegal unless officially sanctioned, such as in the case of Witness Protection. One had to be pretty ignorant _not_ to know that, detective or otherwise--and she understood instantly why Shinichi was so troubled. 

He was hurt to learn he'd been living a lie. 

"But...that's only part of it--not even the _worst_ of it," he continued in a low voice. "'Worst'...hell, I can't _decide_ which part is worse..." 

"There's more?" she asked, brows raised. With the revelation about his name, all the suppositions in her head had been put away--but now that there was the potential for more surprises, they all came back full force, clamoring at her. 

"When I was lying to you--about being Conan...it's bad enough I wasn't the person you thought I was," he murmured sadly, wryly. "But I'm not even the person _I_ thought I was." 

"Shinichi..." 

He sat up rather suddenly, running fingers through his bangs and taking a deep, long breath that was half tired sigh. For a while he was silent, leaning back to rest his weight on his hands and staring up at her ceiling. His eyes were dark, barely lit by glimmers from the lamp as he gathered his thoughts for what had to come next. Another breath, a little shakier this time, and he began again. 

"Ran...what do you know about Kaitou Kid?" 

A bit confused by his seemingly off-the-wall query, she sat back against her bed's headboard, thinking. "All I really know is that he's a famous thief who's been at large for twenty years or so," she admitted. "Aoko Nakamori told me her dad has been chasing him ever since he was a rookie cop. He's super-good at fooling the police, making riddles, and stealing _anything_. I've never even really seen him, except that time on the _Queen Elizabeth_..." 

Shinichi scowled noticeably, sitting up again; Ran's eyes turned inward as she remembered the one and only time she'd encountered the phantom thief. Barely even an _encounter_--it was so sudden, and quickly over; her memories consisted only of a strange-smelling cloth over her face, a strong arm around her body from behind, and a soft, strangely familiar voice whispering, "_Sorry 'bout this, ojousan..._" as dizzy darkness claimed her. 

Now Ran was the one frowning. "He knocked me out and impersonated me!" she went on indignantly. "He used a handkerchief full of something--if I'd had a chance to use my karate, he would've regretted grabbing me!" 

Against his will, Shinichi let out a snort of laughter. He was fairly certain Kid had skirted a horrible death by mere centimeters that night--and that he _knew_ it, too. Though he might not survive his next meeting with Ran, once she knew the truth... 

_Hell, **I** might not survive this either..._

"You know about as much as anyone else does," Shinichi said quietly. "Though I doubt many people can boast of having a close encounter with him." 

"Hmph! If I ever have a 'close encounter' with _him_ again, he's going to get it!" 

_Yup, he's dead meat,_ Shinichi thought with a faint grin. _And I'll stand back and watch, too--my little revenge for breaking Rule Five like that._ "I bet he will," he said, gulping down a nervous chuckle. "Just be sure to leave him alive when you're done--" 

He cut off with _another_ gulp and a whispered curse; Ran's head whipped around, her indignation melting into a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. "Shinichi, don't tell me you _know--?_ Wait, you got all upset when I mentioned Kid in the--" Her eyes grew impossibly wider. "No...were you seriously--you said he wasn't--but is he really--?" 

"_No_." The word was hard, quick, bitten out with surprising force. "I told you it's not like you think." 

"But...if it's not..." Ran still stared at him, stunned. "You _know_ him, don't you? You know the Kid." 

The small body had gone remarkably still, lifeless save for the small half-smile on his face and the painful glimmer in his eyes. "Yeah." 

"Who...?" 

"Promise you won't have a fit when I tell you." His voice was so fatalistic, so soft, yet filled with surprising intensity. 

"Shinichi..." 

"You have to promise. You have to _listen_, then you can react. Promise me." 

She gazed at him quizzically for a moment before finally answering, sitting back and forcing herself to relax. "Okay. I promise." 

A little of the tension slid out of him; he glanced briefly at her from beneath dark bangs as he took a breath to speak. "My dad's not Kaitou Kid--at least not in the way you're thinking. Just...let me tell you a story, the same story I heard...and then maybe you'll understand..." 

It was hard to embark on the tale at first, but to his surprise it was easy to keep going once he started. Haltingly, he began with the account of the two brothers, the young phantom thieves long before the fame of Kid, and how they became a magician and an author; as Ran's eyes grew wide with dawning realization, he continued by telling how the brothers began to oppose a massive criminal organization. He told of their marriages to two strong, special women; the births of their sons and their plans for the future--then the night disaster struck, and the separation that resulted. 

He went on, despite her disbelief and pale face, to relate how one brother went into hiding, erasing his previous identity and exchanging it for a new one, never telling his son the bitter truth--and how the other brother swore vengeance on the organization and fought them even harder, becoming legendary as Kid the Phantom Thief...until he was murdered ten years ago when his identity was discovered. His brother helped to cover up the murder, and his son grew up ignorant until he discovered the truth and put on his father's mantle... 

And that's when Ran gasped loudly, covering her mouth--much the same way she had when the truth had come out about Conan. _Comprehension_--and despite all the shocks in his story, the final truth still came as a stunning jolt. His story came to a close with a narrative of his own discoveries--how he'd been led blindly into that test at the mansion, how he'd been shown the truth the very next day. He faltered to a stop as he saw her growing understanding; she knew the whole truth now, every sordid detail--and the astonishment rendered her silent for long, tense moments. She just stared at him for a time, trying to collect her thoughts as all the implications struck home. 

"Kuroba-kun..." she whispered, barely audible, dropping her hand to her chest. "Kaito Kuroba is the Kid...?" 

Shinichi nodded mutely, watching her eyes, waiting for her response. 

"Your father...and his father--the brothers...they were too...before...?" 

Another nod; he was still silent. 

Ran swallowed hard, dropping her eyes; for a long time they were hidden by her bangs, her face unreadable. He knew she was thinking, that she was turning the whole story over and over in her mind, but the waiting made him more and more nervous. What was she going to say at last...? 

After several eternally long minutes, she spoke; when she looked up at him again, she was strangely composed. "I can see why you didn't want to tell me this right out," she said softly. "I understand how you could feel so badly about it. If my father was a thief, even an _ex_-thief..." 

His sigh of relief was audible, and the thin shoulders fell loose at last. Her response was more than he'd been hoping for--unlike the Conan issue, she wasn't angry. She understood, even if he still didn't know her thoughts on Kaito. "I'm glad you're not mad about this," he admitted softly. 

"Why would I be?" she asked, almost smiling, almost disbelieving that he'd think her response would be anger. "You told me yourself you didn't know until last week--and it's not something you were _hiding_ from me, like Conan. I've got no reason to be angry with you for something that isn't your fault." 

He returned her faint smile. "I just didn't know how you'd take it. Kaito and I...we've both got a lot at stake, and telling you is a risk. If you decide to go to the police, I can't stop you, but with the Organization..." 

"They've been after you a lot longer than just that night at Tropical Land," Ran put in, her tone still composed. "I understand that much, at least. They've been enemies of your family for years, and your uncle's already dead--Kuroba-kun's at risk, and if they ever find out who _you_ really are, Kudo _or_ Kuroba...you're as good as dead, too." 

His eyebrows shot up at her almost clincal description. "Well...yeah, I guess you've summed it up pretty well." 

"I don't understand something though..." Her face turned slightly perplexed, her eyes holding his. "Kuroba-kun is the Kid...and I was wondering why you haven't turned him in yourself...but now..." 

"I could have," he admitted. "I almost did. I was thinking about it...until I got to know him better. He's not doing it for himself--he's trying to stop _them_, just like me. We decided to work together because...I guess two heads are better than one--and we're cousins. Toichi Kuroba was my uncle--what else can I do? I can't be like my dad, and just turn my back on my family..." 

"I see..." She frowned a little. 

"It's because he's a thief, isn't it?" Shinichi asked quietly, cocking his head. "It's hard to understand because he's stealing and evading the police...and it goes against everything you've been taught." 

She looked up at him, nodding. 

"That's the way I felt about it too," he told her with a faint laugh. "And I _still_ don't really approve of stealing. But I've gotten to know Kaito a lot better in the last few days--you were right, I've never met anyone like him...someone like _me_, I guess...and I know he isn't doing it for the fame or the money." 

"So...you're okay with...?" She looked incredulous--the great Shinichi Kudo, letting a thief off the hook? 

"I wouldn't say 'okay,'" he replied with a half-shrug. "Just sort of...putting up with it. It isn't the phantom thief's way to take things for personal gain. We steal things to protect them--because after the items are returned, their owner guards them that much more carefully. That's how my ojisan foiled the Organization so many times--he'd get there first. Kaito's doing the same thing, plus trying to draw the Organization's agents out by his actions and leading the police to them..." He blinked, noticing her startled look. "What? What's the matter?" 

"You...just now you sounded...almost..._proud_ of him. Like you were..." Her eyes were wide and startled. "And...you said...'_we_ steal'..." 

A jolt of shock rocketed through him as he realized that he _had_ just said "we." For a moment he looked just as startled as she did, astonished that such a thing had slipped from his own mouth--where the hell had it even _come_ from?--before he dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on his knees, his fingers slipping through his bangs as he fought back a wave of horror at his own thoughts. "I didn't mean to say that," he responded, barely a whisper. 

"Shinichi...tell me you're not going to--to..." 

"I don't really _know_ what I'm going to do," he admitted, despondent. "I was going to help him find them...he was going to help me get information...and we were going to take them on together..." 

"But why did you say...?" 

"I _don't know_," he replied plaintively. "I've been fighting with myself for days--so many things became so clear when I realized... Ran, it isn't just Kaito and his father, and Dad...it's their--_my_ whole family." 

"You mean _other--?_" 

He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes bright and bleak. "It's been happening for years. The Kurobas have been doing this for _centuries_--since the old times, when phantom thieves were as notorious as ninja, as infamous as ronin. It's been this way for generations, and I've got that in me--I didn't want to believe it even when Kaito told me, but I could be just as good as him...a _thief_ just like him. I wasn't raised the way he was, but...but he was right--I've got the gift, just like he said...without even _trying_. I'm one of them, Ran...in that mansion, holding that diamond, I felt it--it was so _easy_ it was like a game. He was right--by blood and by birth, I'm..." 

He trailed off hoarsely; somehow he sounded all the more tragic with his little-boy voice made raspy by complex, tortured emotions that no ordinary child suffered. He was a small, hunched little figure on the end of her bed, suddenly distraught as if living the shock of the truth all over again. As if telling the tale forced him to acknowledge it--forced him to recognize what was in him, the blood that made him who and what he was. 

"Shinichi..." Ran was staring at him again, something both horrified and understanding in her gaze. She was shocked, surprised--but she wasn't angry, wasn't accusing or even repulsed. In fact, to his own surprise, she was reaching for him--going out of her way to touch him, scooting to his side simply to put an arm around him. "Shinichi, it's okay..." 

He'd felt that he didn't deserve her comfort--but when she offered it, his anguished heart wouldn't let him refuse; he couldn't have pulled away even if his mind had wanted to. One arm went around him, pulling him to her side; her other hand reached out to take his, squeezing it. With his mind focused on his heritage rather than his age, it had somehow ceased to matter that his hand was half the size of hers. Big or small, he welcomed her touch. 

"I can guess what you're thinking," she whispered softly, no longer astonished or speechless. She was composed once again, sympathetic and concerned. "You're thinking I'll hate you because of this, aren't you? You're thinking I'll never want to see you again because you're supposedly a phantom thief. I know you too well, Shinichi Kudo." 

He flinched when she used that name; at this point, he was neither Shinichi nor Kudo. Just a little boy falsely named Conan Edogawa, a refugee from the shattered Kuroba family. 

Ran sighed deeply, her arm tightening around him. "I guess I understand...about you and Kuroba-kun and what you're doing. No matter what you thought I'd do...I don't think I could go to the police anyway. If what you said is true, _they_ could be with the police too, and Kuroba-kun would be killed." She laughed softly, ironically. "I'm surprised, especially since I don't know Kuroba-kun all that well, but I _like_ him--I still do, actually, despite him being Kid. He's so much like you, and being with him the other night made you seem so happy..." She paused, smiling almost playfully. "And if I turned him in, it would make Aoko-chan cry, and I couldn't do that to my new friend." 

"She doesn't know..." Shinichi finally said, reassured by her understanding. "He can't tell her...she's the daughter of the police inspector assigned to catch him..." 

Ran actually chuckled briefly. "Poor Kuroba-kun." She grew serious, watching his downcast face a little longer. Something was eating at him inside, some bit of guilt or worry. "Shinichi, you're still thinking those things, aren't you?" 

His only response was a faint cringe. 

"You baka..." She pulled him closer, resting her cheek on his hair. "I told you I understand. With everything I've heard, this is beyond the law and the police. The whole Organization...I don't think there _is_ any way to stop them using traditional means. With things this bad, you and Kuroba-kun are going to have to resort to drastic measures--I understand that, and I accept it, no matter what you think. It started when you told me you're Conan--I knew then that we'd have to bend the rules to stop those people. I know you'll be saving lives, Shinichi..." Her eyes softened, glimmering. "...and I trust you. No matter what you have to do...I believe in you." 

Shinichi's breath was shaky, but he couldn't help the grateful smile that appeared on his face. "Ran..." His voice was a soft, hoarse whisper as he met her eyes at last. "Have I told you...how much I love you?" 

He loved how her eyes lit from within when he said those three little words--it made her even more beautiful, as if she had become a living angel. Her mischievous smile only accentuated the lovely image. "You have...twice, I think. Three if you count just now." 

"I'll make it four," he promised. "I'm glad you understand...and I hope you'll be okay...I don't want you to get hurt because of this, because you know I love you and I never want anything to happen to you..." 

"I know," she whispered. "And I'll be okay, as long as you're with me. As long as we're together, I'm going to keep counting--" 

He clutched her hand, sincere and solemn. "I'll make it a _million_...if I live long enough..." 

The thought of his death chilled her to the bone, and she held him that much tighter. "Of course you will--and I'll hold you to it," she replied quickly, refusing to dwell too long on what they faced and the definite possibility of the consequences. "I'm glad you told me the truth, and no matter what happens, I'll always believe in you...no matter who you are, or what you are, no matter what your father did, or anyone in your family...because I love you, Shinichi." 

"Three," he said softly. 

"Huh?" 

"That's three times...you've told me you love me." He attempted a playful smile, but only got a wistful one. "And every time...it feels like the first time. I can't believe it sometimes..." 

"You silly! Are you going to keep doubting?" She ruffled his hair with one hand, trying to lighten the mood as she hugged him earnestly. "I'm going to be with you always, so you'd just better _start_ believing it!" 

This time he managed a stronger smile, squeezing her in return. Ran just kept surprising him--with her strength, her understanding, her support and affection despite all the things he'd done, the lies he'd told her and the hurt he'd put her through. Her love was so deep he could hardly fathom it, and she gave it all to him; he only knew that something like it welled up in his own heart for her--an emotion so powerful it defied description. And if she felt for him anything like what he felt for her...then he had to be the luckiest man on Earth. 

* * * * *

The sun was bright but not hot, the breeze pleasantly cool; it was a beautiful day, quite worthy of a Monday and the beginning of a new work week. However, despite the glorious morning, few people appreciated the view at this early an hour--and a certain not-quite-little-boy was one of those unappreciative people. 

Conan was yawning frequently as he tagged along at Ran's side, looking rather bleary-eyed--and _she_ seemed a bit sleepy as well as they strolled down the sidewalk, headed for a new day of school. It had taken a while for their conversation to wind down the night before; they had talked into the wee hours, discussing Kaito, the Organization, and the plans being made--as well as settling Shinichi's fears and uncertainty about his heritage. Ran was understanding and sympathetic, and her reassurance had worked miracles that night. 

He felt remarkably _good_ this morning, all things considered. Despite his bouts of yawning, he felt refreshed after the weekend's trials; a good night's sleep and Ran's support had done wonders for his confidence. He'd had one hell of a weekend, and at this point he almost _welcomed_ another long, boring day at elementary school--it would be a refreshing dose of _normal_. 

Conan was nearly back to his old self, cheerful and cute--with occasional yawns--as he followed his Neechan toward the school. Their playacting that morning had caused a hysterical bout of giggles once they'd gotten out the door and away from Kogoro Mouri; pulling the wool over his eyes had become _quite_ an entertaining diversion. 

Ran seemed happier as well, her face glowing with cheerfulness and her voice light. Conan couldn't help but enjoy himself, blessed with the chance to walk to school with her just like in the old days...almost. The matter of age still stood between them--and it wouldn't be just the two of them for long. 

Eventually, they would meet up with Ai Haibara and the Young Detectives; another street down from _that_ corner, Sonoko Suzuki would intercept them and the high schoolers would head off one direction while the kids left in another. The most exasperating part of walking to school was having to leave her side and go to kiddy class, but Conan was in a better mood than usual and the thought didn't dampen his spirits as much as it might have. 

However, he did have _one_ pressing concern on this otherwise pleasant day. 

Waiting at the first street corner for the light to change, he reached up for Ran's hand, tugging lightly for attention. "Hey, Ran-neechan...can we go by Beika Street today?" he chirped. 

She looked down at him. "Beika Street?" 

Conan glanced about and, seeing no one around, lowered his voice. "I'd like to drop in and check on my mom," he nearly whispered. "Just for a sec." 

His mask came back up--and so did hers, a smiling sisterly look with a bright, gentle voice. "Sure thing, Conan-kun! Come on, let's go." With a gentle pull on his hand, she set off, leading him in the direction of Beika Street...following her _old_ route to school. 

They walked hand-in-hand the whole way, looking innocent enough to anyone who happened to be watching. "Ran-neechan" was just as amiable as always, and "Conan" just as happy, but there was a change in their manner recently--a certain ease about them, a comfort in each other's presence that few but the most observant people would notice. They turned on to Beika Street and headed down the lane, cheerful as always. 

But even Conan's irrepressibly cheerful mask was bound to falter at the unexpected. 

He was _not_ expecting to see a taxi parked in front of the Kudos' gate. 

Concerned, and at once thinking that his parents were packing up and taking off again, he picked up his pace to a trot that forced Ran to quicken her stride. The taxi driver was boredly waiting in his seat, not paying attention to anything, and one of the rear passenger doors stood open. Conan dropped Ran's hand as he glanced into the cab, noting that there were a few suitcases inside already. Something puzzled him about _which_ cases had been packed, but by then he was already coming around the corner of the wall, stepping through the gate. 

His eyes quickly found the moving figures on the front porch, and he froze in place with no little amount of shock at what he saw. Behind him, Ran had to halt suddenly or trip over him--and hung back by the gatepost when she noticed what he was staring at. 

Conan stood stock-still for a moment, gaping at the tableau on the front step, trying in that instant to comprehend what his eyes were telling him. His father, dressed in his traveling suit and with one small suitcase in hand, was stepping off the porch with a fixed, dead look in his eyes and a reasolute expression on his face. His mother, dressed only in a nightgown and robe, was standing quietly on the porch, her hair atypically rumpled, her eyes red as if from long hours of crying--though now, her cheeks were dry. 

It took several moments for the horrifying, impossible reality to sink in, and several more moments for him to process that reality. It was so awful that for one instant he thought he was actually dreaming. 

Then his brain engaged, time started again--and with a brief, shrill cry of desperation, Shinichi threw down his backpack and ran toward his house. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:**_ @_@ Whew, this one's a doozy... The next file is coming in short order, as soon as I can crank up the press! We've got lots of ground to cover, a few more shocks to survive, and then I think we'll relax by enjoying a nice, calm, soothing murder mystery. Sound good? I thought so! ^_^ See you later!_


	17. Disappearing Act

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 17: Disappearing Act**

Even before the echoes of his yell had faded from the yard, Shinichi was careening up the front walk, lurching to a stop before the porch. Both Yukiko and Yuusaku seemed surprised to see him, but only Yukiko reacted--a short gasp and a look of dismay. "Shin-chan--!" 

"Mom? _Dad?_ What's happening? What's going on here?" Shinichi's eyes were wild, touched by a spark of faint, growing terror as his gaze darted between his parents. "Where are you going, Dad? Mom, where's he--?" 

Yuusaku's face had already hardened to iron; his grip on his briefcase tightened, and he continued his resolute stride away from the house. Shinichi gaped at his father's back, shocked that the man could so disregard him, and turned to his mother for an explanation. "Mom, what's going on?" he quavered. 

"Shin-chan...!" Yukiko's voice broke with grief and pain--she hadn't wanted her son to witness this awful moment. "I told you to stay with Ran-chan...!" 

"You--you _knew_--even then--!" Shinichi stared at her, unbelieving. "Why didn't you _tell_ me?" 

"Shin-chan...please..." His mother reached out to him, trying to find words to make him understand. "I'm so sorry...!" 

But he had already whirled away from her, darting down the path after his father. He was angry, terrified, frantic--his mind had begun to grasp what was happening and he was willing to do _anything_ to stop it. 

"Dad! _Dad!_ Where are you going?" Shinichi pulled up at Yuusaku's side, stumbling around in front of him and trying to stop his stride. "What's happening here? You're mad about this, so you're walking out on us? You're just going to leave like this? _Dad!_" 

Yuusaku's mask was crumbling, but from his vantage point Shinichi couldn't see it. The man kept walking. 

"Dad, wait! Stop and talk to me, dammit!" Another dance around in front of his father almost got him trod upon, forcing him to scurry aside. "Dad, listen! Wait--_wait!_ Why are you going? You can't just leave Mom like this! Would you just _talk_ to me?" 

Shinichi's voice had begun to rise, both in volume and in pitch, until his shrill, angry, plaintive tones matched those of a very desperate little boy. Yuusaku knew he couldn't afford to look down now--it was somehow harder to ignore the boy when he was a small, helpless, pleading child rather than a desperate, demanding teenager. His jaw tightened almost painfully as he forced himself to keep walking, head high; he knew that if he looked at his son, he was lost--he wouldn't be _able_ to leave. 

Shinichi kept demanding, somehow knowing that if Yuusaku made it to the gate, it was over. Despairing now, he latched on to his father's hand and dug in his heels--for all the good it did--trying to _somehow_ make the man stop and listen to him. 

"Dad, just wait a minute! _Please!_ Don't leave--just _talk_ to me! _Dad!_ Don't go--I'm sorry--I'm sorry for everything I ever said! Just _listen_ for a second! Dad, _look at me! Dad--!_" 

Yuusaku stopped suddenly, startling his son into silence. He never looked down--not once--but when he spoke, his voice was very rough, whether with harshness or emotion, it was impossible to tell. "Shinichi. If you can find the time between your games with Kaito...take care of your mother." 

Shinichi jerked as if the man had struck him, his grip going slack and making it easy for Yuusaku to shake off his small hands. He stood as still as stone, unable to move, unable to speak...helpless as his father strode out the gate and stepped into the taxi. The door slammed, the engine coughed, and the cab pulled away smoothly, speeding up and disappearing down the street. 

Yuusaku never once looked back. 

Shinichi was left standing there, staring after the car, shaking with grief and rage, remorse and desolation. Again he hoped--_prayed_ that this was just a nightmare...but he wasn't waking up, the pain went on and on until his throat knotted up and his eyes stung hotly, until he realized that it was all _real_, like the poison, and his life had been torn apart _again_... 

"Shin-chan..." 

His mother's voice was a whisper, but it somehow unstiffened his muscles enough that he could move. He turned to look up at her, his shocked angry mask melting away in the face of anguish and sorrow. 

She was hurting too, her face tight and her eyes red. But she had cried all her tears hours ago; there was nothing left but dull, tired pain. She'd come to the end of it, but her son's agony was just beginning. He was distraught, helpless; there was only pleading in his eyes, only grief on his face. His voice was nothing but a child's whimper, a frail little wisp of broken sound. "Mom..._why...?_" 

Tears. It had been so long since her son had shed tears that she'd almost forgotten the last time she'd seen it. 

It was the tears that cut her to the bone. 

"Shin-chan...!" Yukiko knealt to embrace him, her motions quick and desperate--as if he was the only treasure she had left in the entire world. She gathered him into her arms, and to her surprise he didn't resist at all. She held him tight as his small arms went around her neck; he clung to her like a lifeline, burying his face in her shoulder. She thought she'd had no tears left, but somehow her heart found the ones that had been reserved for her son. "Shin-chan...I'm so sorry, sweetie...I'm _so sorry_..." 

* * * * *

In the taxi, blocks away, Yuusaku Kudo put his face in his hands and tried to keep the driver from noticing... 

* * * * *

"Shinichi..." The voice was an inaudible whisper, a silent breathless plea. 

Ran stayed where she was, shocked, out of sight by the gatepost of the wall. The tableau that had played out before her was like something out of a nightmare--_her_ nightmares--and her heart wrung at the sight of Shinichi's stricken face. She _knew_ this scene--she had seen it a thousand times in her dreams... 

_"Mommy? Where are you going, Mommy? Wait, please! Daddy...why's Mommy leaving--**why?**"_

She knew this pain, this loneliness, and it hurt beyond unbearably to see it on Shinichi's small, pale face. When he looked to his mother, the thin little waver that was his voice hit her deep inside. She gasped, covering her mouth to muffle the sound as she whirled away, pressing her back to the cool stone of the wall. 

_"Mommy, please don't go! I'll be good, I promise! Don't go away! Why are you leaving? Daddy, make Mommy stay! **Mommy...!**"_

The memory of another little child's pleading wail forced her to fight down a sob. Blinking back tears, she tried to take a deep breath but somehow it was just a hiccup. Her concern for Shinichi forced her to turn back, to look at that anguished scene once more--she wanted to help him somehow, if only... 

She peeked around the gatepost, her eyes darting to Yukiko and the trembling little boy in her arms. She almost stepped forward, almost spoke--but then the older woman's eyes met hers, freezing her in her place. Yukiko's gaze was full of pain but also full of strength; she shook her head faintly, barely visible but a definite command. Then she turned to walk back up the drive, cradling her son close in her arms. 

Ran gasped again, flinching as she ducked back out of sight before Shinichi could see her. Without looking back, without faltering, Yukiko carried her son into the house. 

When they were gone, Ran ventured out from behind the gatepost once more. Torn, she stared forlornly at the silent Kudo house...then at the small backpack lying deserted on the sidewalk at the gate. It was spilled open from being carelessly thrown down, a couple of first-grader books and various articles scattered on the pavement. Swallowing the urge to cry--or at least _trying_ to--she knealt to gather up the small bookbag's contents, tucking the books back inside and scooping up the strewn pencils and crayons. 

Her efforts to hold back her tears had been in vain; despite her resolution, they flowed freely down her cheeks, and had marked the paper covers of the small books she'd picked up. At last she stood, clutching the little bookbag to her chest, staring at the lonely house once more. In her heart, she wanted more than anything to go in there, to find some way to comfort him, but she knew in her mind that now was not the time. He needed his mother now--he needed what was left of his family. Only when he was ready, and at last came to her, could she offer solace to him. 

"Shinichi..." 

With a shuddering breath, she turned away from the broken Kudo home and started walking, heading once more for school. She would have to make one stop on the way, however, to let the teachers at Teitan Elementary know that Conan Edogawa would not be coming to class today. 

* * * * *

Yawning, Kaito sat back in his desk and waited boredly for class to begin. After what had been happening the last few days, a regular, normal, uneventful day of school seemed pretty darn dull, but he supposed it would let him make up for lost time where Aoko was concerned. He hadn't truly teased her into a mop-battle since the week before last. 

The only problem was that Aoko hadn't shown up yet. 

He yawned again, resting his chin in his hand and scanning the room. Akako had been _eyeing_ him for several minutes now--never a good sign with that freaky girl--and it was only a matter of time before she made her move. A couple of Aoko's friends were gathered around their cluster of desks, chattering, and some of the guys were hanging out by the windows, but other than that it was quiet. Most everyone had opted to find their seats and sit--just as bored and drowsy as he; evidently Mondays just did that to people--rather than spend their last few moments of freedom in conversation. 

He sensed a shift, and glanced back; Akako was moving now, gliding smoothly to the side of his desk to smile enigmatically down at him. "Whaddya want?" he grunted, after a few moments of trading stares with her. 

"Oh, nothing," she replied with a disinterested air, her brilliant dark eyes sparkling with secrets. "I just thought I'd come see why you're so depressed, that's all." 

He blinked at her. "I am not depressed." 

Her enigmatic smile got more mysterious--and a bit wider, too. "Come now. You haven't pulled one trick, cracked a single joke, teased the girls, bothered the guys, _or_ asked where Aoko-chan is." 

His blink turned to a flat-eyed frown. "Ah, so just sitting here makes me depressed." 

"When it's _you_, yes. You're not your usual smiling self, Kuroba-kun," the long-haired girl replied. Under the pretense of getting close enough to whisper confidentially, she leaned down to drape herself alluringly against his desktop, her long, smooth dark hair falling over her shoulder and her sculpted features directing a look of faint, amused "concern" at him. "Don't tell me you had a _fight_ with dear Aoko-chan." 

"_Che!_ Right," he retorted, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair--mainly to get further away from her without looking like he was recoiling from her closeness. "What would we fight about, anyway? When she left last night, she was perfectly fine." 

Akako paused, one delicate eyebrow arching. "Ah, so you were with her last night? Interesting..." 

"Listen, you," Kaito corrected quickly, "she came for dinner. With my _mother_." 

"I see." Akako shifted her position to lean closer to him, knowing _exactly_ how her uniform top fell in such a pose; he'd gone to full retreat against the chair back, and now he couldn't get away unless he actually got out of his seat. "Is _that_ why you're depressed?" 

"Idiot!" he snorted, sitting up straighter with a sudden chuckle and an animated grin. "Do I _look_ depressed to you? I'm just bored!" 

Akako chanced to lean a little nearer. "Faker." 

He snorted again. 

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the shadow that pounced on the white thief, would it?" she asked pointedly, in a flatly amused tone. 

Kaito's cheery mask got a little crack in it. "What...?" 

"The shadow at the bell tower that streaked across the sky to ambush the white bandit...I remember that shadow from my divination," the long-haired girl replied, raising an eyebrow at him. 

_No way..._ "What does that have to do with me?" 

Akako laughed softly at his innocent look. "I don't know. But I saw the shadow again. I've been having dreams for three nights." 

"Dreams?" Kaito feigned disinterest, lacing his fingers behind his head. 

Her eyes went distant. "The dark shadow and the white thief race again. A dove and a raven flying in a cold starry sky where no day-birds belong." 

"Another tasteless prophecy," he sighed, looking bored. "Shadow boogeymen after elusive white thieves--how _thrilling_." 

Akako smiled in a very _strange_ way, standing up from his desk. Behind her, Aoko was coming in the classroom door, spotting Kaito. "It was different this time," Akako said softly, gazing down at him. "The dark one was no longer chasing the white thief--they were side by side. And my dreams are never prophecy, Kuroba-kun--only my waking divinations. Dreams just see what is and what has been." 

Aoko was approaching; Kaito began to worry that Akako would say something that the other girl shouldn't hear. "Good for you," he drawled indifferently. 

"Have you met him?" 

"Huh?" He glanced at her. 

"The shadow in the helicopter who swooped down on the thief in the bell tower," Akako replied, leaning down to him once more. "The mysterious person that even I couldn't see--the one with the same aura that you have. You've met him, haven't you?" 

Kaito stared at her, hiding his shock behind blank-eyed perplexity. "Met who?" 

Aoko finally reached their side, looking more cheerful than she had last night. "Hi, Akako-chan! 'Morning, Kaito. Who met who?" 

"Oh...nobody. Just a fellow," Akako replied amiably, then turned to gaze at Kaito again. Her eyes narrowed as her smile sharpened, but with only a polite nod she moved on. 

Aoko watched her go, puzzled. "Kaito, who was she talking about?" 

Kaito waved a hand dismissively. "Aw, I think she wants to meet my cousin. I was playing dumb 'cause he's taken. Don't want _her_ to get her hooks in him." 

Aoko poked him for that remark. "And what's wrong with her?" 

_Plenty, but you don't know it._ "Nothing." He shrugged. "It's just that Shinichi's got Ran, you know? And Akako's kinda greedy when it comes to guys--she'll stop at nothing to get them under her spell." 

"What does that have to do with her wanting to meet your cousin?" Aoko demanded blithely. "You make it sound like she's some kind of witch out to snatch him." 

Kaito snorted, half to hide his laugh of disbelief. "Aw, get real." _And if you only knew..._ "She couldn't 'snatch' Shinichi if she _tried_. I'm just saying she'd be really _annoying_ while she's trying to. She's seriously boy-crazy." 

"She isn't _that_ boy-crazy," Aoko retorted. "Just because she's pretty and smart and well-mannered and lots of the boys like her..." She paused for a momentary envious sigh. "That doesn't mean she's boy-crazy." 

"Whatever you say," Kaito drawled half-sarcastically. "But don't say I didn't warn you..." 

"Kaito, you can be so rude sometimes...!" Aoko was about to _really_ lay into him when the teacher walked in and the class began to assemble itself into some sort of order. Deciding not to give him the pleasure of a broom-fight first thing in the morning--she could always get him during math--the girl turned on her heel and stomped toward her desk, frowning furiously. 

Unbeknownst to them, Akako was smiling as she sauntered slowly back to her desk for the beginning of class. It was a sharp, insightful smile; she had heard every word that Kaito and Aoko had spoken. 

* * * * *

Ran jumped, jolted out of her reverie, when Sonoko pounced on her. Startled, she turned wide eyes to her friend almost guiltily, her mouth dropping open. "What--?" 

Hanging an arm over Ran's shoulders, Sonoko eyed her for a moment, a rather sly smile on her face. "So why are _you_ so depressed?" 

Ran blinked, gaping for a moment before she marshalled her features once more. "I am not depressed." 

"Oh, come _on_," her friend wheedled, at last removing herself from Ran's shoulder and leaning her elbows against the desk. "You've barely said two words to me all morning, and you've been staring out that window since we got here. C'mon, tell me--did Shinichi-kun call you again and make up another sob story about why he isn't coming home? That bum..." 

"No, that's not it!" Ran informed her sharply--then regretted her outburst when Sonoko's sly look returned. "Uh, I mean..." 

"_Rea_lly..." the short-haired girl drawled shrewdly. "Ran, I know you too well--you only ever get _this_ mopey when _he's_ involved." 

Caught, Ran deflated somewhat, her gaze tracing out the window again to the city beyond, her thoughts drawn to a certain house on a certain street--the place she longed to be right now. "You're right..." she confessed reluctantly. "It's about _him_." 

"He did it to you again, didn't he?" Sonoko said, shaking her head in annoyance. "That lousy jerk--what's the matter with him? Gallivanting around on cases and putting you off like you're some undesirable--" 

"It's not _his_ fault!" Ran burst out again, catching herself almost immediately--and realizing that it was far too easy to jump to Shinichi's defense and accidentally blurt out something damaging. "Look, he...I talked to him, and..." 

"Yes? Yes?" Sonoko pressed, eager for information--for gossip, really. "Go on!" 

"And he--Sonoko, this is _serious_, would you stop looking like that? And it turns out...well...his parents are having a fight and...it's...kind of...bad." 

The gossip-hungry look faded rapidly from her friend's eyes; Sonoko was rather struck by the news, despite her usual ditzy exterior. "Oh..." 

Ran nodded gravely, surprised that Sonoko had sobered as much as she had. "Yeah. I'm worried about him right now, and that's why I'm...depressed." 

"There there..." Startlingly solemn, Sonoko patted her shoulder comfortingly. The twinkle in her eye was quickly returning, however, along with her smile. "I'll just have to cheer you up, won't I? Let's go _straight_ to the mall after school--I saw this _totally_ gorgeous outfit there the other day, and you can wear that when you see Shinichi-kun and it'll cheer him up in a flash too..." 

With a smile of wry acceptance, Ran nodded along with Sonoko's chatter, well aware that her bubbly friend was doing her best to help in her own way. But she knew that at this point there was little she _could_ do to cheer Shinichi up; a pretty outfit would only remind him all the more of what he couldn't have, of the life he'd lost--and she was sure he didn't need that on top of what had happened this morning. 

As the teacher came in and the class settled down for the morning to begin--Sonoko scurrying back to her desk--Ran sighed wearily and wished she were someplace else. Particularly at a certain house on a certain street, with a certain little boy that she loved. 

* * * * *

It was a long time before either mother or son were composed enough to speak--and during that time they only sat there together, silent tears and broken hearts; Yukiko gathered her son close in her arms and rocked him, while Shinichi clung tight to her like he hadn't since he was truly a little child. For the time being, dignity and appearance mattered little to either of them; glasses and secret identities and actress-pride were left behind and forgotten. He couldn't do much but try to endure the pain, and she did her best to comfort him. 

It was several hours before Shinichi was even calm enough to nod or shake his head in mute response to his mother's soft questions. She was far more composed than he by the time she carried him into the kitchen to make some hot tea for the both of them; she'd already suffered the worst of the pain the night before, and now most of her grief was for her son's sake, not her own. 

Somehow, a memory from his childhood helped his mind begin to clear. His mother had done this with him many times in the distant past when he was upset about something or had gotten hurt--she had made tea with him cradled on her hip, his head resting on her shoulder, her gentle voice humming a faint song. Right now he didn't know if she was doing it to comfort him or if it was simple maternal habit, but somehow this old half-familiar, half-forgotten ritual was infinitely soothing. 

She set him down in a chair at the kitchen table with a cup of tea in front of him, pausing to touch his shoulder before hurrying back for her own cup. Tea in hand, she settled at the table beside him, pulling her chair around to sit close to him--close enough to reach out and stroke his hair, as if touching him gave her some small reassurance as well. She watched him quietly for a time, seemingly forgetting about her own tea as he held his cup in both hands and took small, shaky swallows of the warm liquid. 

"There...now..." Her voice was rough from tears but soft with concern. "Are you...feeling a little better?" 

With another gulp of tea, he managed a faint nod and weak shrug. 

"I'm glad you are," she responded, trying to cheer up her tone a little. "I thought a little tea might help. You go ahead and finish that, and I suppose you can stay the night here if you like--" 

"Mom. Don't." 

His voice, sudden though quiet, startled her out of her train of thought. "Shin-chan...?" 

"Please don't pretend. Not for me." He stared at his tea, or the tabletop, or maybe nothing at all. "Just...tell me _why_." 

The cheer vanished as if it had never been. "Shin-chan...you know he wants you to be safe--" 

"Then why did he leave?" Shinichi demanded abruptly, turning eyes full of hurt and betrayal on her. "Is he still running away, and left us behind because we wouldn't go with him? Or is he just so mad about being exposed that he can't stand us any more?" 

"That's not...!" Yukiko winced as if stung. 

"Or is it...because I defied him?" Shinichi's gaze fell back to the teacup. "Because of me...?" 

"It's not your fault!" his mother cut in sharply. "Never _ever_ blame yourself--Yuusaku made his own decision!" 

He flinched, still staring into his tea. "But...I...this wouldn't have happened if I...if I'd just..." His small voice cracked and faltered out, unable to continue. 

"Shin-chan..." Yukiko smoothed his hair again, soothingly, remorsefully, glad that at least he didn't pull away from her touch. Her own voice was broken as well, but she pressed on, hoping to make him understand. "Listen, sweetie..._please_...I know this hurts...but I know Yuusaku's hurting too. This isn't forever--it can't be." Her eyes glistened with tears as she tried to keep her faith strong for his sake. "We talked...argued...all night, and both uf us know what could happen if we're found out--to all of us, Fumiyo-chan and Kai-chan and you and Yuusaku and me...and Ran-chan and the Professor and everyone else around us..._all_ of us know it." 

"I know..." 

"Yes," Yukiko agreed, smiling wanly. "And Yuusaku is more worried about all of us because he's been in danger his whole life, and especially since he became a thief and defied the Organization--and even after he changed our identites and hid. He's lived all this time always looking over his shoulder, and even though Fumiyo-chan and I have been involved since we married, we just don't feel the same way he does. And...he's worried about you, Shin-chan. He didn't raise you like he was raised...like _all_ the Kurobas were raised, even Kai-chan...and he knows you'll be going with Kai-chan now. Since he didn't train you, he thinks you won't be able to do it--he thinks you'll fail, and be killed, and all of us will die...but he doesn't _know_..." 

"Know what...?" Shinichi glanced at her. 

His mother smiled at him again, a brighter smile this time. "He thinks he raised you to be a detective, a skillful seeker of justice--and he _did_, but...but that's not _all_ you are. He can't seem to see what I see...what I've seen from the beginning--he trained you without knowing it. Every time he taught you something, there was a little of the phantom thief in it. I'm sure you and Kai-chan can do _anything_--you've got all you need, Shin-chan, if you can have faith in yourself..." 

"Then why can't _he_ have faith in me?" Shinichi asked plaintively. "He _always_ cuts me down--I can _never_ do anything good enough! Why can't he believe in me now? _Why_ did he have to go...?" 

Yukiko's shoulders drooped sadly, wearily. "He's afraid we'll all be killed...and he's so worried about you and Kai-chan..." She sighed, a long lonely breath. "He still thinks his way is best--that if we keep hiding, we'll all be safe...and he's angry because he's afraid..." 

"But..." 

"Shin-chan, this won't be forever," Yukiko promised softly. "He'll come back, I swear. I know my husband--he's upset and troubled right now, but he'll pull himself together soon and come home. He just needs some time to cool down--this isn't really much more serious than other fights we've had," she half-lied a little guiltily. 

Shinichi looked up at her, his blue eyes glimmering with a faint hope. "You think he'll come back?" 

"Of course," she replied. "Once he realizes that we aren't going to meekly follow him, and that we can manage on our own without his protection, he'll come back home and apologize for being such an overprotective boor and then things will go back to the way they were." She offered a bright smile that was almost real. "Who knows--maybe we'll have you back to normal by then, and we can get on with our lives again." 

Shinichi almost smiled. "That'd be nice," he admitted. "I just hope...he _does_ come home..." 

"I've no doubt he will," Yukiko said, sitting back in her chair with a more pleasant look--mostly to hide the doubts she _did_ have--and glancing around. "In the meantime, I've got to do something about this house--it's an absolute _mess_, all dusty and dark and lonely! I think I'll get new drapes for the living room and kitchen, and perhaps a rug for the hall..." 

Startled by her off-the-wall change of pace, Shinichi was jolted clean out of his gloom, blinking at her with wide, rather dazed eyes. "You're talking _drapes_ and _rugs_ at a time like this?" 

"Why, of course," his mother replied, sipping the last of her tea and setting the cup down to pull her robe closer around her. "I know it may take a bit for Yuusaku to calm down, and I'll have to find something to do while he's gone. With you staying at Ran-chan's, it'll be awfully lonely around here for a while..." She looked about the kitchen and sighed mournfully. 

"I...I _could_ stay here if you--" he offered hesitantly. 

"No, Shin-chan--that's very sweet of you, but you know you're safer there," she said with a shake of her head. "You have to keep being Conan until we can get you back to normal and deal with that pesky Syndicate." With another sigh, she rose from the table, taking the empty teacups with her to the kitchen. "Shin-chan, are you hungry?" 

"Pesky...Syndicate...?" He almost snorted with faint amusement--his mother made it sound like Gin and Vodka were a couple of annoying pranksters that could simply be chased off. "Mom, are you sure you'll be okay, alone here while Dad's...?" 

"Yes, I'll be fine!" She waved a careless hand at him as she tightened her robe belt and opened the refrigerator. "...goodness, I'll have to go shopping... Anyway, I'm glad to be able to talk to Fumiyo-chan again--we can keep each other company now. And I can keep myself busy cleaning up the house and getting ready--there's going to be lots of changes from now on, and I won't stand for our home to be in such a state! I think I'll even re-upholster the living room couch--the thing's ancient and getting threadbare..." 

"Why are you worried about the couch?" he asked, mystified. He wondered if she'd already forgotten about her husband, or if she was really hiding her feelings behind a bustle of cheerful activity. She was always such an actress... 

Yukiko paused a moment, lips pursed as she considered. "Hm...Shin-chan, which room upstairs do you think would make a nicer bedroom? The guest quarters or perhaps the sewing room...? If it's the sewing room I'll _have_ to get a decent carpet down in there..." 

Puzzled, he watched her pull a box of rice down from the cupboard as he thought about his answer. "Uh...the sewing room's got a nice view of the back yard...but the guest room's almost as big as mine and it has a closet..." He trailed off, confused. What would she need a new bedroom for? They had a guest room for company. 

"Ah, yes--the closet..." Pots and pans were rifled through in search of a decent container to cook rice in. "I'd forgotten about that. I suppose the guest room is the better choice--it's next to yours, too, and that might be important. Oh, how much rice would you like, Shin-chan?" 

He blinked again. "Um, just...the usual..." 

"I'll have to go look into paint colors," Yukiko went on absently, going back to the freezer to search for food to serve with the box of rice. "Something light and cheerful--and new curtains, too. I've _got_ to get some cute wallpaper--I never had the chance to do your room but I'd love to be creative this time. I haven't been up to the attic in _ages_--" 

Shinichi spared a sudden, rather alarmed thought about the fact that he hadn't cleaned up the attic since his frantic search the week before. He was also starting to feel some strange little warning bells going off in the back of his mind, but for the life of him he couldn't fathom it. 

"--but I know we put a lot of your old furniture up there years ago. I could never throw away your old things, Shin-chan--I'm nostalgic to a fault. But I suppose that's a good thing right now...though I'll have to see if they're too old to be usable..." 

There was something _important_ he was missing here--he just knew it. And if there was one thing he _hated_, it was being unable to figure something out. Still completely baffled, he cocked his head to regard her perplexedly. "Uh, Mom?" he interrupted carefully. "Um...what are you doing all this for, anyway?" 

Yukiko paused, her mouth forming an "O" as she blushed faintly. "Oh my...I forgot! And here I am chattering away at you like this! I'm sorry, Shin-chan--we really meant to tell you fairly soon, but then you called and all this came up and it just _completely_ slipped my mind." 

"What did?" he asked, hesitantly curious. 

To his suprise, Yukiko left her food on the counter to come and sit back down in her chair, facing him directly with a delighted earnestness that made him go wide-eyed. She took a deep breath, her cheeks strangely pink and her eyes sparkling. "Shinichi...how do you feel about being a Niichan?" 

It was suddenly silent enough to hear a pin drop. Jolted, his mouth falling open, Shinichi stared at his mother in utter, wide-eyed shock. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _Ack, another late addition! Sorry for the wait on this. And I hope the little cliffhanger isn't **too** upsetting! More coming soon--seeya then!_


	18. Changing the Rules

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 18: Changing the Rules**

"_You're **what?**_" 

"Now, now...Shin-chan...!" Blushing and a bit flustered, Yukiko Kudo made placating motions with both hands as she tried to calm her son--who was currently standing clean up on his chair, staring at her with quite possibly the most stunned, staggered look she'd ever seen on his face. She hadn't really expected such a strong reaction out of him, but his voice had cracked to a shrill almost-shriek from shock and he'd jumped straight up in the chair. 

Shinichi's mouth opened, but few intelligible words spilled out. "Y-you're--you're--and D-Dad--b-b-but you--how did--?" 

"Shin-chan, _please_, sit back down before you fall off," Yukiko begged, becoming embarrassed herself because of his shocked reaction. "Really, this is nothing to be so upset about!" 

Gulping air and halting his attempts to speak, Shinichi did as he was bid, plopping nervelessly back down in his chair and staring at her with wide, boggled eyes. She blushed again and fiddled with the hem of her robe, both of them uncomfortable in the sudden silence as the small boy struggled to verbalize his feelings. 

"But...why...?" He swallowed hard, his voice suddenly unclogging in a rush. "Mom, what the _hell_ did you go and do _that_ for?" 

Yukiko looked down. "Shin-chan, you of all people should know that your father and I didn't _plan_ this. I hadn't intended to have any more children, but sometimes these things just happen." 

"J-just _happen?_" Shinichi's jaw dropped again. "You mean to tell me that after seventeen years of trying _not_ to have more kids that this just _happened?_" 

Yukiko's cheeks flushed more than before. "I'm sorry, Shin-chan--this was unexpected for _all_ of us. Yuusaku and I were just...celebrating a memory of our honeymoon--I'm sorry you missed our wedding anniversary. We went to that beach resort place down the coast from our Hawaii house--you know, the one we used to visit during the summer when we needed time away from you? It's the place we spent the first night of our honeymoon..." Her face went a little redder. "...and it's the same place we made _you_...isn't that extraordinary?" 

"Mom...!" He gawked at her. "It's not extraordinary, it's...it's...it's...!" Exasperated, he threw up his hands. "This is _nuts!_ I can't believe you'd be so careless--Dad, too! This is no time to be having babies!" He shot her a narrow-eyed look. "And aren't you too old to be having kids by now?" 

"Shinichi...!" Miffed, she turned up her nose. "I'm only thirty-seven, you know! I am _not_ old!" 

He waved a hand, still shocked and frustrated. "That's beside the point! With the Organization and everything going on it's _dangerous_, Mom! What were you _thinking?_" 

"There's no point in scolding me now, Shin-chan," she retorted, folding her arms--and at last fixing him with a maternal glare, the sort he just couldn't defy. "You're just going to have to deal with this--I am. This baby is certainly unexpected but she's still here and we have to make the best of it. It's not something I can just stop, Shin-chan--even if I _wanted_ to." 

"I _know_..." His shoulders slumped, and he set his folded arms on the table. "But it's still...Mom...you might..." 

"It'll be alright, Shin-chan," his mother reassured him, softening her gaze with a smile. "You'll see." 

Wearily, he set his chin on his arms. "God, it never rains but it _pours_..." 

Sympathetic, Yukiko reached out to gently rub his back. "Shin-chan..." 

"First I got shrunk, and I'm running from the Organization and trying to get back to normal...and just when I start thinking I can live with _that_, everything changes _again_--Kaito somehow gets me to break into a mansion and steal a jewel, then I learn that my name is a lie...then Ran finds out who I really am...then Dad yells at me and then _leaves_...and now..." 

Yukiko leaned closer, trying to comfort with her touch now that the fight had gone out of him. "But it can't be _all_ bad, can it?" she offered quietly. "You and Kai-chan can work together now...and Ran knows the truth so you don't have to lie to her any more. And your father..." 

"What's so good about him taking off?" Shinichi shot back, depressed. "He just left you like this, when you're--" He froze, eyes widening. "Wait...Mom, does Dad know?" 

Yukiko went still, remaining silent for several long moments. "He knows." 

Shinichi was struck quite dumb for a short while, in which time several different emotions flashed across his young face in rapid succession--shock, incredulity, grief, anger...until his mind processed the information it had received and finally focused, settling into pure, furious outrage. 

"He knows? _He **knows?**_ And he just _left_ you like this?" His voice went loud and shrill with wrath, small hands fisted and slamming into the tabletop as he jolted to his feet in the chair once more. "That...that...that _bastard--!_" Near speechless with fury, he stood stiff and flushed, trembling with rage. "I can't _believe_ he would just--but he just _left_ you...when you need him most--!" 

"_Shinichi!_" 

He was jerked to a stop by the note of utter command in his mother's voice, so rarely did she speak to him with such sternness and anger. Shocked at the hurt and disbelief in her eyes, he stared at her for scant moments with his mouth gaping open, too jarred to continue. 

"I don't care what wrongs he's done or how badly he's handled this," Yukiko said quietly, firmly. "Yuusaku is still your father. He is still my husband. You will _not_ speak of him like that--do you understand?" 

Shinichi's mouth worked for an instant before he nodded quickly. "Y-yes. But...Mom..." 

Yukiko sighed, the harshness seeping out of her eyes to be replaced by sadness and understanding. "I know, sweetie...I know. I realize my husband is being a complete baka, but...this is a very troubling situation. And you're still his son--it isn't right for you to call him such names." 

"I...I know." Shinichi looked down and away, gradually settling back down in the chair. "And...I'm sorry, Mom. I just...I can't believe he..." There was unwilling moisture gathering on his lashes again--tears of anger, helplessness, loss, and hurt, barely held in check by his shaky determination. 

"He'll come back," Yukiko told him softly, her own eyes filling for his pain. "Don't cry, Shin-chan--_please_ don't. I promise he'll be back." 

"That's an empty promise and you know it!" Shinichi rasped, turning away--though at this point it mattered little that she saw. "The truth is you don't know! I don't care what I look like--don't treat me like a child and tell me comforting lies--" 

"I _do_ know, Shin-chan," his mother replied, strangely calm. "Because I know Yuusaku. And I believe in him, I really do. No matter that he may be stubborn and thickheaded and entirely too overprotective sometimes..." She offered him a sudden cheerful attempt at a smile. "I don't have to wonder where you got it! He _will_ come back. I swear it on all my love." 

Hesitant, Shinichi glanced back at her, his eyes half-hidden by his bangs--half-hidden and half-hopeful. "You...really believe that...?" 

"Of course," she said firmly, her eyes growing brighter. "Love always hopes, always protects, always trusts, always perseveres. If you love someone, you believe in them to the end." Her smile was tempered with sadness and pain, but through it he could see that love shining. "I love you, and I love your father. I'm not blind to his faults, and even though he's left us hurting and angry, we can't just give up on him." 

He was almost fully facing her now, in awe of her faith. Somehow...his mother suddenly reminded him of Ran--of how the younger girl had waited and hoped and believed in him for so long, trusting him even when he'd hurt her so many times... 

Yukiko blinked, looking suddenly startled. "Oh my! I left the water boiling! Dear me, the rice!" 

As his mother leaped up like a singed cat and hurried to the stove, Shinichi gaped after her in puzzled surprise. "Mom? Are you just going to...?" 

She didn't look up, busy at the stove with the meal she had already neglected. "Shin-chan, honey, we can't just stop and put our lives on hold. He's coming back soon, and in the meantime you've got a Syndicate to catch, a cousin to get to know--I've got a house to clean up, a baby to get ready for..." 

Shinichi sighed, unable to hide the faint smile that touched his lips. This was so like her; nothing ever got Yukiko Kudo down for long. And even if it did, it was no use trying to push her--she was adamantly finished crying, obviously, and no matter how she felt inside she was going to hide it behind her cheer and smiles from now on. Even if it was only for his sake... 

Yukiko had a simple lunch ready in a jiffy; despite the hurt and anger he still felt toward his father, he thanked her and dug into the meal hungrily. Yukiko wasn't the world's best cook, but the food she gave him was piping hot and delicious--and comfortingly familiar, bringing back kinder memories of years past when she had made dinner just like this. It was so long ago it made him slightly homesick for his younger days, when his parents were still around--when they were a real _family_... 

Shinichi and his mother didn't talk much as they sat and ate; there was really no need. They simply took comfort in each other's presence, silently reminiscing together of happier times. 

* * * * *

Kaito trudged up the front steps of his home and through the door, absently announcing his arrival and kicking off his shoes. It had been a _long_ day at school--longer still with Akako eyeballing him from across the room all afternoon--and his brain was running on autopilot, leading him lazily down the hall in the direction of the kitchen, where he could beg a snack from his mother and then proceed to his room to drop off his pack. 

He was slightly grumpy about the homework load the teachers had decided to inflict on him this week--as if they'd all gotten together ahead of time and decided today was the day for a book report, an extra page of math, and a short-term history essay. Like he _needed_ this with the things he had going on in his life... 

"Kaito! You're home!" 

His mother's smiling face appeared from the kitchen door before he even reached it, so unusually cheerful that for a moment he was taken aback, blinking at her in astonishment. "Mom...?" 

"I'm glad you're back! Would you like a snack? I made some onigiri just now--" Fumiyo practically _bounced_ back into the kitchen, heading for the trays and pots of food on the counter. "Eat up! You're always hungry when you come home in such a bad mood." 

"Bad mood--? I--but--um..." The surprise of finding his mother in such a giddily happy state was rapidly shifting his brain from Afternoon Mode back to Conscious Operation; he blinked again, his naturally curious--and wary--nature kicking in. "Uh...Mom, why are you so...so...?" 

"Happy?" Fumiyo turned to smile at him. "Yukiko-chan called to tell me the most _wonderful_ news, honey! You won't believe it--here, put your pack down and have one of these; I put dried plums in them." 

"Um, thanks..." Still mildly alarmed by her change in attitude--his mother had rarely been _this_ happy since his father had passed away--he set his pack by the door and accepted the rice ball. Something was up, and the idea of Yukiko-obasan and "wonderful news" in the same thought somehow made him nervous. "So...what's up with Obasan? Are she and Ojisan moving back into the Kudo house? That would make the two of you pretty happy..." 

"Oh, that's only part of it," Fumiyo replied with a small wave of one hand, the other hand busy reaching for a knife to cut up more vegetables. "Yukiko-chan's staying there now, and Yuusaku has to go back to America for his novel--he'll be back as soon as he can. But now that our family's been reunited, Yukiko-chan and I will be spending a lot more time together!" 

"Oh..." Kaito deftly snatched another onigiri from the tray near his mother's arm, munching as he thought. "Well, that's good. Hope you ladies enjoy yourselves--" 

"But that's not all!" his mother went on. "Yukiko-chan's expecting, you see, and she's very excited about it! She's asked me to get together with her and decorate their guest room for it, and I'm sure we'll need your help moving some furniture since Yuusaku's gone and poor Shin-chan's, um, so small now--" 

Kaito blinked. "Hold on--just--just pause a second, Mom..._what_ did you just say? Did...did you just tell me that Obasan's...?" 

"Yukiko-chan's having a baby, silly!" Fumiyo told him with a scolding smile. 

Dead silence. Kaito froze and stared, Poker Face _completely_ forgotten, his onigiri almost falling from his fingers. He gaped for so long that his mother finally reached out and tapped him on the nose with her wooden spoon, making him blink, snap his jaw shut, and gulp. "Wow," he finally stated lamely, shaking himself out of his stupor. 

"Isn't it wonderful?" Fumiyo gushed with a maternal sigh. "Ahh, it wasn't that long ago that I still wished for a new baby girl...so now I'll just have to help Yukiko-chan and be a good auntie to this one, since I missed so much of Shin-chan's life." 

Kaito almost choked on the last bite of his rice ball, startled at his mother's mention of the idea of a little sister. Too bad his father wasn't still around...but then, Fumiyo was right--a little cousin wouldn't be too bad either... On the heels of that thought came the memory of his _other_ cousin--and _that_ made him suddenly begin to chuckle as he imagined Shinichi's reaction to the news. The new soon-to-be oniichan had probably gotten his socks shocked right off, without a doubt. "Heh, yeah, it's great news, Mom," he said, trying to hide his laughter. "I can't wait to see the look on Shinichi's face--" 

"That's good, because we're going to visit them this evening," Fumiyo announced, turning back to her work at the counter. "I'm taking dinner over for them, since poor Yukiko-chan doesn't have any food in the house yet. No buts," she commanded, seeing him opening his mouth. "You're coming too; I need someone to help me carry all these dishes." 

"Yes, ma'am..." he sighed. 

"And you just said you couldn't wait to see Shin-chan--I think it's wonderful you two have hit it off so well, even after all this time." 

"But...I've got a lot of--" 

"Bring your homework with you!" Fumiyo suggested with a smile. "I have a feeling I'll be there for a while, because it's been so long since Yukiko-chan and I had any girl time. And with Yuusaku out we'll have the house to ourselves! You can do homework with Shin-chan upstairs while we discuss the new bedroom..." 

Kaito sighed and shook his head, smiling fondly at his mother as she chattered on. He really didn't mind that much, homework or not; he hadn't seen her this happy in ages--so happy to have her best friend back in her life, so happy about the prospect of a new baby to be a good aunt for... Rolling up his sleeves, he stepped up beside her with a cheerful grin, offering to help prepare anything she needed an extra pair of hands for. 

* * * * *

The Kudo house turned out to be quite the gathering-place that evening. 

Ai and Professor Agasa came over soon after the announcement call was made to that residence, bringing with them tea and snacks as a congratulatory offering. Although this was the first time Ai and Yukiko had been formally introduced, they seemed to get along well--much to Agasa and Shinichi's relief--and Yukiko didn't seem put off at all by the presence of a young woman in a child's body. In fact, she greeted Ai as if she _were_ that young woman, speaking to her like a friend and equal. Ai took to her almost immediately, and soon enough the two were chatting amiably--if reservedly, on Ai's part--on the couch, teacups in hand. 

The new baby and Yukiko's plans for moving back in were the topics of the hour, in which everyone but Shinichi seemed to be participating eagerly. Even Professor Agasa joined in like an old uncle, smiling behind his moustache at the prospect of a new next-door kid to spoil with inventions. 

Shinichi was present and accounted for, but took little part in the conversation; mostly he sat in concerned silence, his thoughts turned inward as he wondered even now why his mother felt it necessary to hide the true reason for his father's disappearance. It didn't seem _right_ somehow...but, his mother had told him, it kept everyone from showering her with unwanted sympathy and dwelling endlessly on that depressing subject. She wanted more than anything to be _happy_ right now. 

So when the doorbell rang, he let the others carry on with their talk and scooted off the couch to see who it could be. If intuition proved correct, it should be Ran Mouri--she was running late as it was; school had gotten out hours ago and he suspected from past experience that Sonoko had something to do with the delay. 

Ran spotted him the moment he opened the door. "Shinichi...!" And in that same moment, she had dropped her burdens and scooped him into a hug, startling the daylights out of him not only with her sudden action but with the look on her face. Her words gushed out half-tearfully. "I'm so sorry about your father--I'm sorry I couldn't be here--are you okay? I've been so worried about you all day, and I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner but Sonoko _insisted_ I go shopping with her and I couldn't get away without saying something I shouldn't--" 

"Ran, it's okay!" he said hurriedly, to reassure her before she _really_ began to cry. No matter what he felt, he didn't want _her_ unhappy for his sake. "Really, I'm fine--" 

"Liar!" She squeezed him tighter; he couldn't see her expression but he knew what it had to be. "Don't tell me you're fine! I know what this is like..." 

"I know, I know--ease up, Ran!" Shinichi said plaintively, wriggling a bit in her grasp. "If you get too much more upset you're gonna crush me. And, um...my feet _do_ kinda prefer the ground..." 

"Sorry!" she gasped, blushing, and quickly set him down. Though she was kneeling in the entryway to embrace him, she hadn't realized his feet couldn't touch the floor. "I didn't mean to..." 

Shinichi regained his balance and pushed his glasses back up his nose, offering her a small smile. "I know...and it's okay. Thanks for your concern, but really, I'm just fine." 

"Don't lie to me. You promised you wouldn't." Her face, so full of caring and worry, crinkled with impending tears that made his heart clench. "I know you're not okay, and I want to help you..." 

He sighed sadly, gazing up into her eyes. "Ran...I know you know how this feels, so I...I don't have to describe it to you. But...with everything that's happening I can't...drop everything and mourn. I have to keep going, and so does Mom. Oh--!" He blinked. "My mom, she's--" 

"Is she okay?" Ran blurted abruptly. "I was so worried about you I completely forgot about her--gosh, what a baka..." 

"No, don't worry, she's fine!" Shinichi assured her quickly. "She's probably better off than I am--she and Dad fight all the time anyway, and they always have these little sabbaticals from each other...it's just that...um..." Suddenly awkward, he shuffled one foot and scratched the back of his head, trying to find the proper turn of phrase for this momentous announcement. "She's...uh...she's having another kid." 

Due to the shocked look on Ran's face, Shinichi immediately regretted his unpolished, ungraceful, and ineptly male choice of words--it had _not_ come out exactly as he had intended--until her reaction proceeded. Eyes widening, her face brightened with surprise until a smile spread across her features like the sun breaking through the clouds. 

"Oh my _gosh!_" she gasped, suddenly overjoyed, as if her previous worries hadn't existed. "I'm so happy for her--and for you! I can't believe it--you'll get to have a little sister or brother, Shinichi! Oh wow...!" 

His own eyes were wide at her abrupt emotional one-eighty; apparently his mother wasn't the only one who could pull a brilliant smile out of a hat like that. "Uh...yeah...great news..." 

"I can't wait to congratulate her--is she in the living room? I've got to go say hello--" In another moment, Ran had sprung up, slipped off her shoes, and hurried into the house to find the others. 

Shinichi was left standing there by the still-open door, staring after her in disbelief, awe, and faint resentment. The hallway was suddenly silent, suddenly felt looming and empty, and he stood very still as his eyes darkened and his face fell closed--until a footstep on the porch behind him made him jump around, startled. 

"Hey, whaddya know, the door's open..." 

With a flat-eyed stare, Shinichi looked up, taking in the large pile of pots, bowls, and dishes--all of them filled with food--from behind which peeked a pair of blue eyes and a mop of dark hair. "Hey you," he grumbled, "the service entrance is in back." 

Kaito's grin disappeared as he glared huffily down at the small figure in the doorway. "Yeah, nice to see you, too! Sheesh, and after I carried this stuff all the way from the bus stop--" 

"Why hello, Shin-chan!" Fumiyo Kuroba stepped up beside Kaito, her arms also filled with steaming containers. "So nice to see you again. How's your mom doing?" 

Shinichi's glare vanished into a surprised blink. "Oh, Fumiyo-sa--um, Obasan..." He gulped, hesitant at first about giving her that title. "Mom's fine--come on in..." 

"Thank you, sweetheart--I'll just set these down in the kitchen. Come along, Kaito!" Fumiyo stepped past the small boy to drop off her shoes and head down the hall, her teenage son close behind her with a weary, obedient "Yes ma'am!" as he followed. 

Shinichi remained behind long enough to push the door shut, then walked after them slowly, head down, hands tucked in his pockets. As he approached the living areas, he could hear them--everyone was talking, even laughing; they'd heard Fumiyo come in and now they were all headed for the kitchen to meet her, be introduced, and help out with the food. They were all so _happy_. 

None of them knew the truth. Apart from himself, none but Ran and his mother knew the real reason Yuusaku Kudo was absent--and it seemed like both of them had completely forgotten it. 

He came around the corner to stand in the door, watching morosely. Fumiyo and Yukiko were hugging and gushing, Agasa was peeking into pots and bowls, Ai and Ran were both giving Kaito particular looks as the teenage magician grinned nervously at them and introduced himself to the ones he hadn't met before. Shinichi's mouth quirked up just a bit; by the expression in her eyes, the moment Ran got Kaito alone he was going to get it. 

Dinner was just the same. Everyone squeezed in around the table on chairs borrowed from the rest of the house--along with two stacks of encyclopedias from the library for the shorter diners. As the food was dished and the drinks poured, the women chatted gaily and Agasa chuckled; even Ai seemed to converse with more interest than usual, actually smiling a little as she spoke with Yukiko. Shinichi ate slowly and picked at his food, staying fairly silent; Kaito laughed and talked with the others until he sensed the growing dark cloud hovering over his small cousin. His eyes flashed pensive for a moment before rejoining the others in their chatter, and he watched the boy closely though he never seemed to miss a beat as the conversations continued. 

As soon as it was polite to do so, Shinichi shoved away from the table and stalked off with barely a word to any of his friends or family. Startled, both Ran and Kaito stood up, shooting each other surprised glances. 

"Goodness, he seems so gloomy tonight," Fumiyo observed sympathetically, looking back at Yukiko. 

"Oh...I think..." Yukiko hesitated a second. "...the baby has him a little worried--if you know what I mean. We should probably let him be for now..." 

"I see..." 

The others around the table paused for only a few moments before going on with their talk; Ran and Kaito glanced at each other once more. Kaito made up his mind and moved, heading out after Shinichi at a determined clip. 

"Ah--Kuroba-kun--!" Ran called after a second of surprise. "Wait!" She hurried from the room, catching up to him at the base of the stairs, where she grabbed his arm and held on tight. "Kuroba-kun--wait, let me--leave him alone, you don't understand--!" She cut off, releasing his arm when those dark blue eyes met hers, startlingly empty of the cheerfulness and merriment she'd come to expect from him even in their brief association. Abruptly, she remembered who she had grabbed, and stepped back in alarm. For a moment, she just stared at him--and he simply gazed right back, his face unreadable. 

"What's wrong, Ran-san?" he asked in a soft, even voice. 

"You're..." Ran swallowed hard. "He told me you're the..." 

"Yeah...I am." He offered her a faint smile, his piercing eyes softening, somehow without losing an ounce of their intensity. "But I'm not the bad guy." 

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself; Kuroba-kun's eyes made her shiver inside--his gaze was so deep, so striking when he was serious like this, almost looking _into_ her...just like Shinichi. "I...I know. And...somehow...he trusts you." 

One brow raised a little. "Really," he whispered, looking away at last. "That's good to know..." 

"I almost can't believe it," Ran said, equally quiet and almost bitter. "I know you're his cousin...but you're _Kaitou Kid_, and he _trusts_ you. I don't know how..." 

Kaito's smile returned, a ghost of its usual jolly self, slightly awkward. "I don't know either, but I'm glad he hasn't busted me yet," he said, trying to lighten the mood. It wasn't working--Ran remained serious and downcast. "Um...it's not like him to let me off the hook, is it..." 

"The Shinichi Kudo _I_ knew would've had you behind bars in an instant," Ran informed him, almost deifiantly. "But he's _changed_. Ever since you made him go into that man's house--I could tell something was wrong with Conan-kun even then. He's been so..._lost_." Her eyes turned up to his, crackling with anger. "I don't know what you did to him, but it's like he doesn't know who he is any more!" 

"He doesn't." 

Kaito's quiet statement jolted her more than any shout could have. The young thief's confirmation of her own fears only heightened that private dismay; Shinichi had always been a rock, a stable pillar of truth and knowledge--all through her life, he'd always known what to do, who to turn to, how to accomplish anything. To have him suddenly cut adrift like this had thrown _her_ into a sea of turmoil as well, and seeing him suffer this loss of identity, composure, and balance hurt her too. 

"Ojisan's past really threw him for a loop," Kaito sighed, leaning against the banister corner and folding his arms. "He's not sure who he is or what he's supposed to do now. And...to be honest...I'm a little shaky on that part myself..." 

Startled again, she glanced up at him. "_You...?_" 

He gave a short, wry snort. "Ironic, isn't it? You know my reputation--I'm the one who's supposed to be holding all the cards, right? I know who I am, I know _what_ I am, I know what I do..." He swallowed. "But ever since I found out--ever since Jii told me the truth, I...I've sorta been wondering about all of it. Kaitou Kid...me and Shinichi...our dads...what are we doing? Trying to do the right thing, all of us, but not getting anywhere... And things are starting to go haywire. I can't control all the cards anymore--I don't have a clue which ace is where or if a joker's gonna come up next. It's confusing--I haven't lost control of a deck since I was a little kid..." 

He paused mid-thought, as if realizing that she was still standing there--and halted his musing with a sudden nervous laugh. "Not like me at all, is it? Better not tell Shinichi--he'd flip out if he knew I was worried." 

Ran gazed at him, worry still clouding her eyes despite her sudden thoughtful expression. "You and Shinichi...you both like to stay in complete control of a situation, don't you?" 

Not really a question--more a statement that put him suddenly on the defensive. "Hey, well, you know...in both our lines of work, if we _lose_ control of the situation, everything goes nine kinds of nutty." He gave a shrug. "It gets difficult when things get out of hand--like they are now. I used to have everything planned out--but now, with Shinichi involved and all that's happening with our family, I don't even know what's gonna happen _tomorrow_. He doesn't either--and that's why he and I have to get things straightened out." 

Ran looked down again, pensive. "Kuroba-kun...let me talk to him right now--you don't understand what happened. I know what you've been told, but...it's a lie." Her voice dropped to a painful whisper. "Yuusaku-san _left_ them this morning." 

Kaito's breath caught, that laser-sharp gaze darkening in shock and disbelief in a way she'd never seen before. "You mean he's not--?" 

"It's not some book deal in America--he took a cab and left with all his things early this morning," Ran replied, her voice numb. "Yukiko-obachan doesn't want anyone to know--she took me aside tonight and asked me not to tell..." 

The teen thief's teeth gritted. "_Dammit_, Ojisan..." 

"So...just let _me_ talk to him," Ran pleaded. "He's been hurting all day, and he was depressed all through dinner--" 

"Sorry, Ran-san," Kaito replied with a sad, apologetic smile. "But I think I'm gonna make you sit this one out. I'll go--who knows, maybe a little guy-talk will help?" 

"But--you're not--!" 

"I'm not his girlfriend, but I am his cousin," he responded. "Don't worry, we'll be fine. And...no offense, but I don't think he'd want to see you right now. He wouldn't want to be upset in front of you." 

Hurt, she recoiled, staring at him in pained surprise. "But..." 

"Honest, Ran-san...it's a guy thing," he said awkwardly, trying to smile. "He'll come to you as soon as he pulls himself together. It's just...right now..." 

Ran went still for what seemed like a long time, eyes hidden behind her bangs as her hands fisted tight. "Alright," she said at last, slowly and directly looking up at him. "Fine. Go." 

"Thanks, Ran-san." Kaito turned to head up the stairs, but Ran's voice stopped him one last time. 

"But if...if you hurt him...then I'll...I'll...!" Choked, unable to finish, she let her dire threat hang unspoken in the air. 

"Hey...it's okay." He smiled understandingly. "I promise." 

And with that, he was gone, hurrying up the stairs. Slowly, Ran turned around; her feet led her haltingly back toward the dining room as tears gathered in her eyes. They sparkled dimly in the hall light before she brushed them away to put up a smile as she returned to the others. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _Sorry this took so long! I'm getting back in gear on this in hopes of finishing it by the end of the year--wish me luck!_


	19. Masquerade

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 19: Masquerade**

The upstairs of the Kudo house was dark and silent, with no life in any of the rooms. Kaito wandered slowly down the hall, poking his head into various doorways, looking for any sign of his cousin. There were no lights on, not even in Shinichi's bedroom; it seemed as though the small boy had vanished into thin air, and even the cunning mind of the famous phantom thief was beginning to scratch its figurative head in bewilderment as to where he could have gone. 

Kaito reached the end of the upstairs hall and the last doorway. He leaned inside, discovering what was apparently the sewing room the women were talking about--and a steep set of stairs built against the wall, leading up to a doorway in the ceiling. From that wooden door, a sliver of dim light shone down, barely outlining the steps. 

_Aha! So **that's** where you got to..._ With a faint smile, Kaito quietly climbed the stairs, reaching up to gently slide back the door. He poked his head up like a curious gopher from a burrow, blinking in the dusty yellow light, peering through the piled furniture and jumbled boxes that filled the attic. 

As he stepped up and closed the door behind him, the wooden floor creaked softly beneath his feet. He began to carefully make his way between cloth-covered furnishings and over piles of scattered toys, tools, and trinkets, keeping his head down to avoid the rafters and the bare, low-hanging lightbulbs. 

He finally found what he was looking for near the back of the attic, behind a grouping of old-looking furniture that had been moved from its original position judging by the skid-marks across the floorboards. The small form perched atop the black trunk barely moved at his approach, seeming only to withdraw further into itself. 

Kaito stopped a meter away, his expression going from pensive to troubled as he gazed at the thin, hunched shoulders. Shinichi wouldn't even turn and look at him, sending a clear _Go away!_ with his reclusive attitude--practically broadcasting it like a mental command. Kaito could almost feel it in the air around him; Shinichi wanted to be left completely alone. 

_Sorry, I'm not about to comply..._ With a deep breath, a smiling Poker Face slid over his features like a clown's makeup, and he cheerfully covered the remaining distance between them in a couple of steps. "Wow, neat place you've got up here!" he commented, coming alongside the tensed form. "Lots of interesting old junk--and hey, is this what I think it is?" 

His eyes, scanning the heaps and stacks of items spilled from the upturned and scattered boxes, settled on a glittering piece of metal that stuck half-out of a group of tools. Kneeling, his deft fingers scooped it up, barely disturbing the other pieces--thieves' tools, he noted with a slight wince, remembering how upset Shinichi had been that first day, when Kaito had approached him for the first time as _himself_. The boy had probably felt much like Kaito had when he'd stumbled into his father's secret room, learning the truth for the first time--only worse, since Shinichi had believed for so long in the side of justice and law, trusting in what his father had taught him. 

"Wow, now _this_ is something," he continued brightly, turning the item over in his hands. It was slim, made of silvery-grray metal and shaped like a large pocketknife. With a flick and a twist, he opened it, sliding forth the shaft, hooks, and pins of the delicate tool. "See? It's a lockpick! You put it in the lock like this, and control the pins with these little levers--" He demonstrated, knowing that Shinichi was watching though he would not acknowledge him. "--and with a little work, it takes on the shape of the lock's key and you can open it. Though it's pretty old and probably wouldn't work on most locks nowadays--they're too small." 

No response; he glanced at the unmoving boy for a moment, Poker Face slipping a little before he caught it. Trying a different tack, he dropped the lockpick and went for the contents of another pile. Under a heap of handkerchiefs--a large number of finely-made _real silk_ ones that made him slightly jealous--he found some new gadgets, these perhaps slightly more acceptable than a lockpick. 

"Cool! Now _this_ I wouldn't mind having! You know they don't make these any more?" He picked up a handful of thin green paper rods, each surmounted by a colored bulb of silk. "Bet you don't know what these do--here, watch." With a flick of his wrist, one of the rods disappeared into a sleeve. A wave of his hand and a twist of two fingers, and a beautiful white rose appeared in his grip, made of silk and paper. "It's a magic flower--see? This is for really _tight_ tricks when you can't spare the space for a _real_ rose without...squishing it...and..." 

He glanced at Shinichi again, his resolve wilting when the boy _still_ wouldn't acknowledge him. He let out a puff of a pouting sigh. "Y'know, you make a really lousy audience..." 

There was movement, finally, but only as Shinichi's head turned away with a faint exhalation. 

Kaito finally gave up, his cheerful Poker Face sliding off like a tired mask as he dropped the spent flower and sat down in front of the trunk. Cross-legged and slump-shouldered, he stared at the unresponsive boy for long moments before his eyes dropped to the black chest. 

"My dad...has a box like this," he said finally, his voice almost too soft to hear as he reached out and tapped lightly on the dark polished surface. 

Shinichi stirred. "Why are you here?" he asked, equally faint. "Why do you keep doing this?" 

Kaito almost couldn't hide his sigh, tension easing a bit now that his cousin had finally responded. He shrugged, a short jerk of his shoulders that helped conceal his relief. "I dunno. Maybe 'cause I care." 

Shinichi gave a derisive snort. "I didn't even _know_ you until a few days ago. I can't suddenly mean so much to you that you follow me around and try to cheer me up every--" 

"What--can't you?" Kaito broke in, frowning slightly. "I've known about _you_ a lot longer than you've known about me. We're _family_--and that means something to _me_ no matter how long I've known you! Idiot..." 

Shinichi finally moved, finally glanced at him through a fringe of tousled bangs. He was more inclined to listen and believe his cousin when Kaito's so-called Poker Face wasn't between them. Like his own Conan disguise, it was concealing and superficial--meaning little in regards to matters of the heart. That was the point of such masks... 

"So tell me," Kaito began again, "are you sulking up here because Ojisan took off, or because of the new kid?" 

That got a stronger reaction than Kaito had anticipated. Shinichi abruptly uncurled from his hunched position on the chest, whirling to face him fully, teeth clenched and small hands fisted. Looking almost as if he was about to come off the trunk and attack his cousin, he spat out words thick with anger. "You shut up! This has nothing to do with you--what do _you_ know? You've got _no_ right--you have _no idea--!_" 

And _that_ brought something out of Kaito that neither of them would ever have expected--_especially_ not Kaito himself. A sudden equally-hot burst of anger boiled up in response to Shinichi's accusations, something even he couldn't control, turning his once-calm face into an identical snarl. "My father is _dead!_ You think I don't have any idea? _I_ can't even cling to the hope he might come back someday! _My_ father is gone _forever!_ And _you_ say I have no right? What right do _you_ have to say that to me? I can't even _hope...!_" 

He stopped himself before he went too far, half-risen from his spot on the floor with Shinichi staring at him in startled resentment. He swallowed back his fury, swallowed back his tears, all the while wondering how the hell that outburst had escaped his iron guard. 

Shinichi gulped as well, unnerved beyond belief at the brief explosion, far more intense than the one he'd seen yesterday during the argument with Yuusaku. Jolted out of his sullen sulk by the sharp, painful tone of Kaito's angry voice, he drew a shaky breath as he watched his cousin's temper subside. "Kaito, I...I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..." 

A half-smile jerked at Kaito's mouth for a fleeting instant, a fitful attempt at cheer. "No, never mind," he said, marshalling his tones back to normal. "I shouldn't have jabbed you in the first place. You're right...I don't understand. My father didn't walk out on me--uh..." 

Kaito regretted his choice of words at Shinichi's flinch, but when the boy spoke again, his tone wasn't angry. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. You _do_ understand--more than anyone else. We're in the same boat...right? Absent or dead, both our dads are gone." 

The crooked, barely-visible smile finally shone through, a sad shadow of Kaito's usual cheer but still there--and reflected equally in Shinichi's doleful young face. Through those tiny, somber, near-identical smiles, a message of apology and forgiveness passed silently between them. 

"Um..." Shinichi shifted his position atop the black trunk, stretching his feet out and fidgeting awkwardly. "You said...your dad had a box like this one?" 

Kaito glanced at him, seeing the hesitant, genuine curiosity. "Yeah...a white one," he answered, keeping up the pretense of changing the subject. "With silver metal, and sky-blue velvet inside. I could show it to you sometime..." 

There was silence between them for long moments after that, floating heavily in the dusty, yellow-lit space of the musty attic. It was too awkward to look at each other for long, with what they had said and how they had treated each other, however briefly. But the strange, suddenly stronger sense of connection had not gone away; Shinichi had not withdrawn in hurt, Kaito had not stomped off in anger--they were still face to face, still willing to talk. 

And in the end, it was Shinichi who spoke first. He didn't know why; perhaps because, despite his anger and defensiveness, he really _needed_ someone to talk to--someone _like him_, who could understand his situation, his emotions. Someone like Kaito--who had already lost his father, who lived with the same gift/curse of intelligence and ability, who struggled with a dual life and a dire secret... 

"I didn't mean to walk out on everyone like that," he confessed in a near-whisper. "I'm running away, just like Dad, aren't I...?" 

"No you're not," Kaito responded. His composure was considerably more stable than Shinichi's, and though they still didn't look at each other, his voice was stronger, laced with quiet conviction. "I did a lot of this when my dad died. I needed time to myself, to sort things out..." His eyes settled on a pile of magic props, spotting a deck of cards with a pattern identical to one he had at home. "It hurts to lose someone you love, no matter how they go." 

"It's not just that," Shinichi murmured. 

Kaito's hand reached out almost of its own volition; in a moment, the deck of cards was dancing through his fingers like a ballet performance. It gave him something to keep his hands busy--it always helped him to calm himself and think--and it gave Shinichi something to focus on. The boy watched the whirl of cards with distant eyes, seemingly enraptured by the display. "What is it, then?" Kaito asked. "C'mon, you can't _really_ be mad about your mom's announcement, can you?" 

Shinichi winced near-invisibly, and the cards in Kaito's hands faltered almost unnoticeably. The teenage magician hadn't _meant_ to sound uncaring, but the words had come out in his usual casual, careless tones. 

"It sounds really stupid and petty, doesn't it?" the boy snorted softly, sounding angry--but at himself or his parents, Kaito couldn't tell. "I'm...I'm _jealous_ of a kid who hasn't even been _born_ yet..." 

"You're _what?_" Kaito actually lost a few cards, the deck coming to an unsteady halt in his left hand. 

Shinichi scowled. "I _know_ it's idiotic of me. I'm old enough I shouldn't feel like this--it's for _little kids_. Spoiled little brats who can't stand not to be their mommy's favorite..." He snorted again, an empty, lonesome sound. "That describes me perfectly right now." 

"Well, I guess...it's natural," Kaito observed, eyebrows high, as he scooped up the cards he'd dropped and started again. "I think I'd probably be feeling...a _little_ jealous, if _my_ family was suddenly all ga-ga over a new baby. But right now..." He offered a wistful smile. "I'm more jealous of _you_ right now. If I could have a little brother or sister, at least that'd mean my dad's still alive..." 

Shinichi actually returned the smile, though his was sad and sardonic. "Trade you places?" 

"I _wish_. Don't even go there." The teen thief almost seemed to shudder. "I wouldn't wish my situation on _anyone_. Believe me. You're better off where you are." 

"Am I?" The resulting sigh seemed almost too deep for the small lungs that produced it. "On top of it, I don't even _get_ to be a real niichan. Not like _this_. I'm Conan Edogawa, nothing more than a distant cousin. It's not _my_ little brother--it's Shinichi Kudo's." 

Kaito looked up at the small boy, realization stilling the cards in his hands once more. Shinichi's soft voice was touched with such pain and longing, his eyes dark with angry regret. 

"My mom's showered more attention on me _now_--now that I'm little and 'cute' again--than she ever did before," the boy continued, his tones turning almost...bitter. "She never did anything like this for me..." 

Kaito swallowed. "Anything like what?" he hazarded to ask. 

"She never decorated a nursery for me, or wanted to fix up the house for me--nothing," Shinichi snorted resentfully. "My parents were in the 'young and reckless' category, and I was just an 'oops' that got in the way. They wanted to be fashionably childless and run all over the world, free to do whatever they pleased. Mom was pretty happy until I was about five or six and the cuteness factor wore off--and she got bored with being a good little housewife. I was never smart enough for Dad--no matter how hard I try, he's never satisfied..." 

Kaito watched the play of emotion across the boy's face, eyes wide with surprised sympathy. Shinichi had never opened up to him like this before--and he could hardly bear to break the moment with his own words. 

"My parents were always going somewhere, so I got to spend a lot of weekends at a lot of interesting places," Shinichi continued quietly. "If nothing else, I learned tons of things that way. I guess some would call me lucky...but even if Mom and Dad included me, I _still_ felt like I was in their way. Especially when I nagged them to bring Ran along or something like that." 

"It...it can't be _that_ bad," Kaito said hesitantly. "I'm sure they loved having you along--" 

"Yeah, _right_," Shinichi snapped. "They dumped me as soon as they legally could. When I turned fourteen, they gave me the keys to the house and took off. I _chose_ to live _here_ instead of the Hawaii place--they would've left me behind either way. They've been globe-trotting ever since, having the time of their lives while I'm here dealing with _this_..." 

Kaito winced; there wasn't _anything_ he could say to that. 

"And now Mom comes back here and asks me if I want to be a niichan--like there's nothing wrong at all!" The boy's small hands fisted. "She's _excited_ about this. She's fixing up the house and talking about baby clothes with her best friends... If _I_ was such a burden, what's so different now? Why is she so happy this time--when she _wasn't_ happy about _me...?_" 

As Shinichi's voice trailed off in a choked rasp, Kaito clutched the deck of cards tight in his hand. Perhaps in the matters of missing a father, he could understand and empathize with his cousin--but in this, he had no experience. He could hardly imagine feeling like that--thinking he was unwanted, a burden to his mother, a disappointment to his father--but he tried to reach for those emotions, tried to understand... 

An involuntary shiver coursed through him, as if those feelings had actually brushed coldly against his heart for an instant. Hurt, loneliness, desolation...and a terrible sense of abandonment... 

"I...I can't speak for your mother," he said haltingly, "and I don't even _want_ to bring Ojisan into this...but..." He fiddled with the cards--not shuffling, just turning them over and over in his hands--and cleared his throat nervously, hoping to phrase this right, hoping he wouldn't injure his cousin's already-bruised feelings. "From...everything I've seen...Obasan loves you a _lot_, Shinichi. I know I've only known her a couple days, but she...the way she looks at you, and...her voice when she talks about you...and the way she...sort of..._feels_...it's the same as my mom. You know? That same..." 

Shinichi glanced at him. "I know...it's just...actions speak louder than words...and they..." 

"Sometimes my dad didn't have a lot of time for me," Kaito admitted hesitantly. "Looking back, I know it's because he was the Kid, and because of what he had to do...but back then, sometimes I wondered if he liked his work as a magician more than he liked his family. But I believed him when he told me how important I was--how much he loved me, no matter how much he was gone." The youth's eyes were distant, wistful. "I still believe him, even now." 

The small boy stared at him for a moment, and Kaito shook himself, his wistfulness replaced by a somewhat embarassed grin. "Aw, listen to me--I'm getting all sappy. Sorry about that...I probably don't really understand what you're going through--" 

"No--I--" Shinichi gulped, then tried again. "I think...you understand better than anyone else I know. Hell, you understand _me_ better than I thought anyone could...even Ran, maybe. And I'm still trying to understand _you_..." 

"I'm not all _that_ complicated," Kaito snorted with faint humor. "I thought you were the unbeatable Great Detective of the East." 

"And I thought _you_ were the enigmatic, world-renowned Kaitou Kid." Shinichi took his cousin by surprise with his response, the same melancholy, near-invisible mirth in his eyes. They gazed at each other for a few moments, trying to let that tiny, blossoming brightness grow. "I guess we've got a lot to learn about each other," the boy said after a while. "Since...we _are_ family, and we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on..." 

Kaito blinked at him in astonishment--and a sort of joyful relief, more than glad to hear his cousin confirm their association in his own words, despite everything that had happened that day. "Yeah," he agreed, his voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, we are." 

"It's...good to know that...isn't it?" Despite the hurt and depression that still roiled down inside him, Shinichi was able to offer a smile that was only faintly brushed with sadness. Right now he was glad of Kaito's presence; not long ago they had been on opposite sides, but in a few whirlwind days of chaos, emotion, and revelation, all that had changed--now they were allies, friends, family. And more than anything, Shinichi was reassured to know that Kaito would stick by him. 

Knowing that there were two people in his life who would never abandon him--Kaito, his cousin, a friend even closer than a brother; Ran, who loved him, and whom he loved more than life--made the pain of his father's absence a little easier to bear. 

"Say, um, I know this is probably a stupid time to ask, but..." Kaito tried a genuine grin, finding to his surprise that it worked. "You want to, uh, come take a look at some plans of mine sometime?" 

Shinichi blinked at him. 

Scratching the back of his head, Kaito pressed on bravely. "I thought maybe we should try and get started on this whole thing, and I had some ideas about how you could help with a few angles, and maybe you could sort of proofread my plan of action and...uh...I sound pretty dumb, don't I?" 

The corner of Shinichi's mouth twitched. "Only when you use 'and' more than a dozen times in one sentence." 

"Hey, I didn't!" Catching himself before his protest escalated, Kaito pulled himself out of the indignant glare. "Um, anyway, I thought just now...maybe if we got a few things accomplished, and we actually made some headway against the Organization...maybe we could show Ojisan that we really _can_ do this." 

Startled, Shinichi caught his breath and stared, stiffening. 

"I know it's probably _idiotic_ of me to ask you right now, with all this..." Kaito shrugged, swiping a hand through his bangs and looking down. "Never mind, forget it. It can wait. You--" 

"I agree; we should do _something_," Shinichi interrupted softly. "Even if...even if right now I don't think I could really...actually..." 

"No problem," Kaito replied, nodding vigorously. "I understand. And it's not like I'm asking you to jump right in, wear the suit, and run my errands for me! Hell no--I just want you to help me make it work. If you could see what I plan to do, and tell me what I _need_ to do to make sure _they_ get nailed..." 

"Yeah," the boy said thoughtfully, looking down. "I could do that. As long as your plan includes giving it _back_--" 

"I can _promise_ you that." 

"Good." His eyes focused once again, Shinichi looked up at his cousin through Conan's glasses, his mouth curving a little into a real smile. "And one other thing--it's been bugging me for a while now..." 

Kaito cocked an eyebrow. "Hm?" 

"How _did_ you do that thing with the flower?" 

* * * * *

Downstairs, things were considerably more lighthearted--if one didn't count Ran, who cast frequent worried glances toward the living room door. Though she took active part in the conversation, her heart still fretted over Shinichi--and Kaito, Kaitou Kid, Shinichi's cousin... 

All the women--Ai included, and surprisingly unafraid of Fumiyo and Yukiko's knowledge of her identity--had gathered in the living room, on the couch and armchairs, with more cups of tea and some of Agasa's leftover snacks. The professor himself had retreated to the library to pore over some of the books there and wait until Ai was ready to go home, since too much girl-talk would overpower his male sensibilities. With the menfolk out of the way, the girls were free to chatter, amiably discussing house decor, new babies, _and_, of course, the men in their lives. 

It was probably a good thing that Kaito and Shinichi were otherwise occupied upstairs. 

"Wait, we're going about this all wrong," Fumiyo spoke up in the midst of a debate about which furnishings to have besides a crib and changing table. "We're arguing about furniture when we haven't even picked a color scheme yet!" 

Yukiko paused in her brief rundown of dresser styles to glance at her friend. "Oh, you're right. Well, I've always been somewhat partial to green." 

"I hardly think green is an acceptable color for a nursery," Ai commented coolly, looking remarkably adult despite her size. 

"Isn't it better to use pink or blue?" Ran wondered aloud after yet another glance at the doorway. "_My_ mom had my room done up in pink with white lacy curtains when I was little." 

"The only problem with that is I don't know if it's a girl or a boy yet," Yukiko said, briefly pursing her lips. "I was thinking more along the lines of a neutral color wallpaper pattern, with a border print of fuzzy animals or something..." 

"What an excellent idea!" Fumiyo agreed, jotting something on the note pad she was holding for just such a reason. "Perhaps a cream or light yellow theme? That would be very cheerful." 

"You can always redo it later on, as the child grows up and his or her tastes change," Ai suggested, ever-practical. But when she spoke next, her tone changed somewhat--turning softer, almost hesitant. "By the way, Yukiko-san..." She looked up from her teacup, her expression genuinely curious. "What _are_ you hoping for? Girl, or boy?" 

The immediate conversation stopped, half in thoughtfulness and half in surprise that _Ai_ of all people would ask something like that, and in such a way. They all looked at her for a moment, and she stared back, startled at _their_ response--until her old habitual coolness took over and she looked down to sip her tea. 

"Actually..." Yukiko replied softly, drawing Ai's gaze up again. "I'd like a little girl." 

Both Fumiyo and Ran smiled sentimentally. "Oh, that would be so darling!" Fumiyo sighed. "I'll bet it's a girl--you've already had one boy, and I'm sure with your luck you'll get exactly what you want." 

"I think it's a girl too," Ran put in, for once not checking the doorway before she spoke. 

"Not to mention you'll no longer be out-voted in family meetings," Ai said with dry humor. "With a daughter on your side, at least you'll be able to hold the men to a tie." 

"That's true," Yukiko admitted with a giggle. "And I'll finally have someone to follow in my footsteps and become famous on the silver screen! I could tell it wasn't going to be Shin-chan pretty early on--the boy has _no_ talent for embellishment. That and he can't sing." 

"Any director would be _mad_ not to cast a daughter of yours, Yukiko-chan." Fumiyo chuckled lightly. "She'll be beautiful, with your hair and Yuusaku-san's eyes..." 

"Shinichi really does have beautiful eyes, doesn't he?" Ran mused absently, her own eyes rather distant. 

Beside her, Yukiko smiled gleefully. "Planning ahead, Ran-chan?" she asked, nudging the suddenly-blushing girl. "I _can_ tell you that the Kudo--er, Kuroba men _do_ tend to pass on those eyes, you know." 

Ran ducked her head, her face still burning from her careless comment. "I didn't...I mean I wasn't...!" 

"I admire a woman who knows what she wants," Ai added sardonically, giving Ran a humorous glance that only deepened the girl's blush. 

"It's okay, Ran-chan," Fumiyo said, trying not to giggle too much. "We're all women here--a girl's gotta dream, right? I remember when _I_ was young and single." 

"Ah, those were the days," Yukiko sighed. "Scoping out the boys, hoping for dates, dreaming of passionate romance..." 

Vaguely, Ran wondered if there was smoke coming out of her ears yet. Even Ai was laughing softly at her flushing cheeks, as if the red-faced teenager was the only innocent in the room. For all she knew, maybe she was... 

"Actually, I've been fairly certain of _those_ two since they were in junior high," Yukiko was saying with a nod. "To say nothing of having played together practically their whole lives. I'm almost positive I'll be lucky enough to have Ran-chan as my daughter-in-law." She smiled again at Ran, leaning over. "Come on, now, I know you've thought about it at _least_ once or twice." 

Nervous, Ran pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, focusing on the teacup in her hand. "It's...only natural...right? And Shinichi _is_...um, well, he's...very handsome...and smart...and..." She quickly lost her nerve, finding words insufficient. 

Fumiyo nodded sagely--the image of a wise mother completely destroyed by the giggle that popped out. "I know a nice young girl that I'm sure is the same way about my Kaito," she said, and Ran was fairly certain she was speaking of Aoko Nakamori. "And it's a pity she couldn't be here for this. I'm sure she could use the hint." 

The two older women fell together laughing, while Ai hid hers behind her teacup and Ran blinked confusedly. "You _know_ Fumiyo-chan and I both expect some lovely grandchildren someday," Yukiko said, making a valiant attempt to appear serious. 

Ran flushed bright red _again_, heartily glad that Shinichi wasn't anywhere near. "I-I'll try to keep that in mind, Obachan..." She managed a soft giggle. "But if Shinichi were standing here right now, I'm sure he'd faint!" 

All of them laughed at that, a good long breathless laugh--except for Ai, who confined herself to chuckles. "I do hope you're blessed with a girl, Yukiko-san," the miniature scientist said, once her own laughter had passed. "Though I must admit much of my hope is based on the anticipation of Kudo-kun's reaction." 

"That's true, most boys _do_ want little brothers," Yukiko mused, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes as she regained her breath. "I guess he'll just have to live with the disappointment." 

"I suppose the Girl vote is unanimous, then?" Fumiyo piped up from the far end of the couch. 

"Yea," said Ai. 

"Yes," said Ran. 

"I certainly hope so," said Yukiko. 

"Good." Fumiyo thought for a second, then smiled. "Because with only Shin-chan voting for a boy, it's almost _certain_ to be a girl." 

"Then maybe we _should_ do the room in pink, shouldn't we?" Ran asked, mouth quirking. 

Yukiko nodded, her expression switching to determined. "I believe we should! In fact, I'm so certain it's a girl, I'll even go buy the pink wallpaper tomorrow!" 

The sound of male voices by the doorway--one young, one younger--caused all of them to look up, seeing Shinichi and Kaito coming to a grinding halt in the living room door. And, the women noticed, looking a bit _worried_ about what they had just walked into. 

Ran brightened upon seeing Shinichi; he seemed visibly changed, much less downcast. His blue eyes still bore shadows, but the grayness to them was gone and his face was not dismal or frowning. When his eyes met hers, he smiled. 

"We, ah, aren't interrupting you ladies, are we?" Kaito asked, doing an admirable job of hiding his nervousness. "Shinichi and I were just on our way to the kitchen for a snack..." 

"No, I think we're done with the dangerous parts," Yukiko replied, sharing a giggling glance with Fumiyo. 

"Are you feeling better, Shinichi?" Ran blurted, sitting forward on the couch. "You look..." 

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his gaze flicking over Fumiyo and Ai. "Kaito and I were just fooling around in the attic with some of Dad's old junk. Which reminds me--!" His face suddenly brightened enough to surprise all of them and he trotted across the carpet to stand before Ran, suddenly grinning and full of boyish mystery. 

"Shinichi...?" Brows high, Ran watched him with surprise and curiousity as he brought his small hands up from his sides to show her they were empty. 

"Watch this, Ran!" he told her eagerly. 

"Drum roll please..." Kaito drawled in the background. 

There was a twirl and flick of one small hand, and--with a look of great concentration and half an instant's hesitation--the little boy somehow produced a beautiful red silk rose from out of nowhere. She gasped, stunned; grinning, he held it up before her proudly. "Ta-da!" 

Kaito applauded amusedly from the entryway, leaning against the doorjamb. His eyes met his mother's briefly--only briefly; he flushed and looked away when he saw the surprise and approval in her eyes--before he turned his gaze to his small cousin. "Hey, I thought you said you were hungry." 

"I am!" Shinichi tossed over his shoulder. "I'll be right there." 

Kaito shrugged and headed for the kitchen. Shinichi offered Ran the rose with a sweeping bow--a comical gesture in his present form, but he laughed along with them as Ran accepted the gift with a faint blush. 

As the others began to talk about the magically appearing silk rose and how he'd managed that trick--a secret he refused to divulge--Ai scooted out of her armchair and carried her teacup toward the kitchen. Her face was set and neutral, betraying nothing of what lay beneath--but inside she was nervous, worried, apprehensive. 

Kaito Kuroba was connected to the Black Organization. 

Kudo-kun had told her almost nothing about him, just that Kuroba was somehow connected to that feared syndicate--and, vaguely, that he was a possible ally. That sort of ambiguity _always_ triggered her Yellow Alert status, especially where the Organization was involved; having yet another person with ties to the Syndicate in their secretive little cabal only made them that much more likely to be discovered. 

Ai had not been the least bit surprised that Kuroba was introduced to her as Kudo's first cousin--the resemblance between the two was _striking_. She would have assumed them to be brothers, perhaps even twins, had she simply seen them on the street and not known who they were. "Family" was the reason Kudo-kun had asked her for that temporary cure; "family" was the reason he was taking that risk. And perhaps it was because she remembered her sister--because she remembered what _family_ meant--that she let him have the capsule 

Kuroba-kun didn't _look_ particularly dangerous. At first glance, he wasn't noteworthy--on the surface, just another ordinary teenage boy. But she knew better; she had played this kind of game, had lived this kind of life. Kuroba wore a mask, like Kudo-kun's--he was the same kind of deceptively still water that always ran perilously deep, his currents dangerously swift and strong. 

He was ordinary until she saw the strangely familiar way he moved; balanced, fluid, alert, someone who know _how_ to move and _when_, who had seen _action_, who could _do_ more than others and _knew_ it--who could not even be _touched_ unless he wished it. He was ordinary until she looked into his eyes--bottomless, brilliant eyes like Kudo's, that could impart so much and _still_ so skillfully conceal everything within. 

He was ordinary until she saw him--really _looked_ at him--and _knew_ how much like Shinichi he was; her first thought had been _Oh God there's **two** of them_, followed by the memory of what Kudo-kun had told her before. Any mention of the Organization automatically put her on-edge. 

And knowing that Kuroba was the same as Kudo--_and_ that he was such an undefined factor--threatened to push her into Red Alert. 

When Ai entered the kitchen, her steps were solid and quiet, passing across the linoleum to set her cup by the sink. Kuroba-kun was halfway inside the refrigerator--as per typical teenage behavior--rooting around in the dishes of leftovers from dinner. From within the fridge she heard his voice, sounding relaxed and cheerful. "Hey, Shinichi, there's a bowl of teriyaki left here if you--" 

Kuroba himself finally emerged from the refrigerator, the aforementioned bowl in one hand and a lighthearted expression on his face--until his head cleared the door and he spotted her, freezing, his voice stopping like a switched-off radio. 

"Kudo-kun is still entertaining the others in the living room," Ai informed him blandly, watching his face lose its animation and lock itself smoothly into a practiced blankness--perfectly neutral, perfectly unreadable. The bowl of teriyaki was set soundlessly on the countertop. 

The standoff remained for several seconds; Ai regarded him casually, watching carefully for the flickers within his eyes that she _could_ see--first had been alarm, then wariness that vanished into his mask. Now, impatience began to seep through, darkening the mask from neutral to just _slightly_ irritated. Her cool, unruffled gaze was getting to him; she knew it was unnerving coming from a small girl. Was her disguise perhaps better than his, or was it just the utter, impartial detachment she wore as a protective skin? 

"So what do you want?" he asked after a few moments, his voice mildly sharp. "Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Okay, so maybe he could read her too, despite her efforts--maybe he _had_ seen the traces of fear, hostility, and suspicion. Keeping her voice level and slightly amused, she answered. "A cat can look at a king--what difference does it make? Besides, you're interesting to look at." 

"Really." He was _good_--barely a shift around his eyes, the faintest trace of _narrowing_. She was putting him on guard; he was getting deeper into that unreadable mask, more and more enigmatic. "Shinichi told me about you. You're the one who made the stuff that did that to him. You were with _them_." 

There was a _roughness_ in his voice on that last phrase; she didn't have to ask who he meant by "them." It was hard to keep her features this tightly controlled--dammit, she was going to keep the upper hand here, or at least stay even with him. 

"I _was_," she replied coolly. "And from what I've been told, _you've_ got something to do with 'them' as well. It makes me wonder why Kudo-kun trusts you as much as he obviously does. You two have been aquainted since...was it Friday, perhaps? And you're already on first-name terms with each other." 

"We're cousins." So flat, so obscure! He was a blank spot on her radar, completely illegible. "Is that so unusual?" 

"You also know who he is." She made sure that her own displeasure was communicated _clearly_ through her piercing gaze. "You know about what happened to him, _and_ you know about me and the Organization, obviously--he's told you everything. You must have one hell of a good reason for him to trust you; the Kudo-kun _I_ know would _never_ be so carelessly open." 

His sudden half-smile made a jolt of alarm spin through her. "I _do_ have a hell of a good reason," he responded, a bit of some noticeable but unidentifiable emotion touching his voice. "I trusted him enough to take the first step--and he returned that trust. Family works that way." Then the emotion dropped away and his smooth voice was cool again, almost icy. "But I don't know _you_, Ai Haibara--or whoever you are." 

"Kudo-kun trusts me," she reminded him almost loftily. "Isn't that enough?" 

"I suppose it is," Kuroba replied. "But just because he has to trust you with his secrets doesn't mean I'm going to share mine. If you're worried about me and the Black Organization, don't be--they're my enemies. That's all I need to say." 

Ai could feel her expression sliding into faint surprise--she was losing the battle. "I assure you, Kuroba-kun--the last thing you'll find me doing is rushing off to play spy for my _former_ associates. That would be the best way to get myself killed--and the rest of you, as well. Much as I hesitate to admit it, I've grown...rather fond of the people here--the Professor, the children, Mouri-chan--and I've no desire to see them murdered in their sleep." 

There was a flicker in his eyes, obscure but definitely there. 

"That baka Kudo-kun knows that too," she continued. "He's in nearly the same position as me, hiding in the form of a child. Even if there _was_ a permanent cure, we couldn't partake of it at this point--it would be far too dangerous to everyone around us to simply try to go back to our ordinary lives. The last thing I want is to be exposed--in any fashion, by anyone--so naturally I'm suspicious of _you_. You're connected to them somehow; they're obviously hunting for _you_, too, if they're your enemy as you say...though how you can walk about in broad daylight unmolested I don't know." 

At this, the half-smile returned faintly. "I have my ways," he said quietly. "Suffice to say that _I'm_ not the one they're looking for. At least not yet." 

She blinked at that, allowing herself to frown. "Then you're very lucky. You don't know what they--" 

"Don't assume anything about me," he interrupted smoothly. "I know perfectly well what they're capable of, _and_ how powerful they are. I may not have the information that you and Shinichi have gathered, but I've walked on the other side of the line and I've watched them from that side of the glass." 

"Then you know how ruthless they can be--especially the section of the Organization that's after us." She looked him full in the eyes, unflinching from the coolness in his gaze, knowing that her own stare was equally distant and chilly. "When you are no longer useful, or become an obstruction, you're executed. When you become a threat to them, no quarter is given until you're _dead_. I've seen it happen too many times, to too many people..." 

"That's right; he told me they killed your sister," he said softly, unflinching at the sudden sharp glare she sent at him. "They killed my father too." 

The biting retort she had been phrasing died in her throat, her expression giving way to shock and comprehension. The Organization _was_ his enemy--they had taken someone precious from him, just as they had stolen Akemi from her. 

Kuroba was suddenly almost frightening as he said that; there was a hot, angry fire that burned fiercely behind his mask, visible only through his eyes--a flame that was vengeful, dangerous, and passionate. Sharply focused fury, precisely honed and directed at their enemy, hidden deeply away from the eyes of everyone around him. 

There was a story here. She knew it instantly; there was a history to this--a reason for his father's death, a reason for his current association with Kudo. She'd thought she had all the pieces of the puzzle in her hands--but there were many missing pieces, she realized; whole parts of this puzzle, parts that she'd never even known existed, were hidden inside both Kaito Kuroba and Shinichi Kudo. 

Finding those pieces, putting them together, and completing the picture...it might let her see just what was going on here. Why Kudo-kun had been of such interest to the Syndicate before, why Kuroba-kun had chosen now to join their small band...the answers to a million different questions. Because there was something she was missing--some secret she obviously wasn't in on. Suddenly she felt ignorant and out of the loop--suddenly nothing seemed clear. 

Dammit, if they would just _tell_ her, all of this would make _sense!_

They were standing there staring at each other--one calm and composed, one astonished and upset--when light, rapid footsteps approached the kitchen door. Kudo-kun popped through the doorway at a good clip, obviously intent on food--when he spotted the two on the other side of the room and pulled up short, slipping on the linoleum in his socks and almost taking a nosedive to the floor. Startled, he gazed from one to the other, clearly at a loss in this unexpectedly tense situation. 

Abruptly, Kuroba was smiling and cheerful, animated once again, his face no longer set in an enigmatic stare. "Hiya, Shinichi! I was wondering when you'd finally quit flirting with Ran-san and get in here. Still hungry? I found some teriyaki and there's still plenty of rice in the fridge..." 

Kuroba pulled open the refrigerator once again; Kudo blinked and seemed to shrug--then readily joined Kuroba in the fridge, taking part in his cousin's merry chatter with calmer, more sardonic tones as they discussed the possibility of zapping the dish of fried pork in the microwave. 

Suddenly excluded, Ai watched them with narrow, calculating eyes. Kudo-kun was pretending nothing had happened, and Kuroba was wearing another mask--a jovial smiling one, but a mask nonetheless, and Kudo was playing along. Taking his cousin's side in the matter. He didn't even _ask_... 

Kudo-kun trusted Kuroba--with their secrets, with their _lives_...and the reverse was true as well. But the two of them shared secrets that outsiders weren't allowed to know; did that mean that _she_ was outside of Kudo's trust now? Was she excluded because she didn't rate high enough in his estimate, or merely because she wasn't _family?_ While their lives were on the line and the Organization lurked around every turn, these two played favorites and kept secrets that could be _crucial_ to their survival...! 

Her furious scowl was present for only a few seconds before it vanished beneath her usual cool expression. Turning on her heel, she left the two of them with their food and strode smoothly from the room--not quite forceful enough to be called "storming," but definitely more fierce than mere walking. Her face set and unreadable, she returned to the living room--where the women were still talking amiably, paying little attention to her entrance--and plopped down in her armchair. She would _not_, even under threat of death, admit that she was _sulking_. 

She felt she had every right to be angry. Didn't she have just as much at stake as they? 

* * * * *

The evening wore on. The women still chatted quietly and comfortably around a pot of tea long since gone cold; Ai remained to listen, still peevish, her thoughts turned inward as the lazy flow of conversation swirled around her. No one seemed to notice her moodiness, mistaking her silence for sleepiness and paying little attention to what flickered in her eyes, half-hidden by her bangs. 

With plates of reheated snacks in hand, the boys had disappeared upstairs to Shinichi's bedroom, taking Kaito's pack with them. They set themselves up at the desk, pushing Shinichi's long-forgotten literature assignment aside and spreading Kaito's papers out. There was only one desk chair, so the smaller of the two perched on the desk itself, Indian-style--where he quickly proved that he was, like Kaito, perfectly able to read upside-down and backwards. Completion of homework commenced, with Shinichi gladly participating--though trigonometry was not the _only_ topic of discussion, being an easy subject for both of them and requiring only a portion of their mental resources. 

This time of relative quiet continued for an hour or so, until a foray into the study revealed Professor Agasa sound asleep with his head on an open copy of the _Encyclopedia of Modern Science, 2000 Edition_. Ai then curtly announced that it was time for them to go, and when the Professor was politely awakened, everyone gathered at the door to see the two of them off. Agasa bid sleepy goodbyes to the ladies as the boys came downstairs to say goodnight; no matter what they said, Ai fixed them both with such a cold stare that Kaito was half tempted to stick his tongue out at her, just to see if it would get a different reaction. With little in the way of reply, the small girl led the drowsy older man out the door, and those in the house simply wondered what had upset Ai so. 

Kaito didn't wonder--he knew. 

Ran, Fumiyo, and Yukiko turned to head back to the living room, leaving the two males standing at the bottom of the stairs. That is, until Yukiko paused in the living room doorway to look back at them, halting their impending ascent with a authoritative proclamation. "Oh, I almost forgot! We had a lot of guests for dinner, so there's quite a few dishes piled up in the sink. I think that's an excellent way for you two to make yourselves useful." 

Frozen on the stairs, Kaito and Shinichi shared a glance of dread and near-identical expressions of disgust. 

"That's right," Fumiyo seconded, out of sight in the living room. "Hop to it, Kaito!" 

"Shin-chan can show you where everything is--and he'll help you wash, won't you, Shin-chan?" Yukiko gave them a bright smile and disappeared as well. 

Rolling their eyes and heaving weary sighs in proper adolescent form, the pair trudged into the kitchen to begin their drudgery. The stack of dishes, plates, cups, servingware, and utensils overflowed one side of the sink and onto the counter, and it didn't even include the bowls and pots of leftovers now occupying the fridge. 

The two shared one last long-suffering look and rolled up their sleeves. Kaito started the hot water running and went to fetch a stool, while Shinichi went through the lower cupboards for soap, scrubbers, and the drying rack. 

When the sink was full of warm soapy water and the stool was placed for Shinichi's convenience, Kaito picked up the nearest scrubbing sponge and dove in. "I'll wash, you dry," he suggested, reaching for a plate. "I've got a bit more, um, leverage than you do." 

"Yeah, whatever..." Shinichi snorted and clambered up on the stool with a dishtowel in hand, taking the freshly-washed plate from Kaito and applying his efforts to it. "By the way...what were you and Haibara talking about in here? She got all huffy afterwards..." 

Kaito shrugged, not looking up from his work. "I guess...for some reason I don't trust her like I trust you. She doesn't know about me, and it's making her suspicious." 

"She's always suspicious," Shinichi sighed. "But whatever you said sure had her upset. I haven't seen her glare like that since..." _Since I was rude to her and never apologized for it..._

"I'm not just gonna come out and start telling the world who I am," Kaito informed him tersely, "just because I made an exception for _you_." 

"That's fine," Shinichi agreed. "But I'm going to have to tell her _something_, or she's going to make my life miserable for a long time." 

"Great. Just be sure you leave Kid out of it," Kaito grumbled, scrubbing a sticky serving dish with a bit more force than necessary. "She doesn't need to know--_nobody_ does. You, Obasan, my mom, Jii, and Ran-san--that's already _way_ more people than I'd _ever_ thought would know about me. Not counting the witch..." 

"You know you can trust us," Shinichi said with surprising conviction. "And Ran won't say anything either, even though she might not be comfortable with the whole Kid thing. She knows what's at stake. And...so does Haibara." 

"I'm _still_ not handing out my secret identity like free candy," Kaito retorted. "_You_ wouldn't tell her if you were in my shoes. She just seems too...too..." 

"Mercenary? Calculating? Secretive?" Shinichi half-smiled. "Yeah, she seems that way all right. But she's _not_, really. That's just sort of...her defense. She's really come through for us though--she's not what she seems." He gave a short chuckle at Kaito's sidelong glare. "Okay, okay! I wasn't going to tell her anything serious--honest! But since she'll want to know something...I thought I'd just tell her that someone in our family crossed the Organization a while ago, and _that's_ why your dad got killed..." He hesitated a moment, glancing at Kaito, before he continued a bit more reservedly. "...and why we're working together now. Nothing about your night job." 

Kaito took a deep breath. "Yeah, I guess that'd work. Sheesh, women are nosy no matter what size they are..." 

"Does Aoko-san really pry that much?" Shinichi asked, genuinely curious. "Ran would drive me _nuts_ sometimes--" 

"Aoko doesn't _pry_," Kaito replied, _almost_ sharply. "She actually tries her hardest to prove me innocent--if you can believe that. She hates Kid so much...she could never believe it's me. She defends me to Hakuba, to Akako--even to her father. She's done so much that it even gets in my way..." 

"It's good to have somebody with that much faith in you," Shinichi observed with a faint smile. "She'll keep you honest." 

"I don't _need_ that in my line of work," the youth grumbled. "Baka..." 

"Baka yourself," Shinichi shot back, flicking a bit of dishwater off his fingers--in a manner that just _happened_ to direct it at his cousin. "If you didn't have her around, where would you be now?" 

"It'd be much easier to finish a heist and get my job done, for one thing," Kaito retorted loftily--also taking the opportunity to serruptitiously return fire with his own damp fingers. 

Mischievous, Shinichi flicked again, this time dipping a hand in the warm water to make sure Kaito was spattered. 

"Hey! What're you up to, squirt?" 

"Nothing--just squirting _you!_" 

Cupping his hands in the soapy dishwater, Shinichi sent a small jet of liquid and bubbles directly at his cousin. Kaito yelped and tried to duck, but his shirtsleeve was caught in the attack. In retaliation, he scooped a hand through the foamy dishwater, getting the small boy right in the face. With an indignant squawk, Shinichi splashed his whole arm into the full sink, soaking Kaito's shirtfront. 

It was just about to degenerate into a free-for-all--one that would probably include sopping wet sponges, cups of water, and the use of the kitchen sink sprayer--when an authoritative voice cut through their muffled, boyish giggles and interrupted their oncoming battle. 

"You boys had better not be making a mess in there!" Yukiko called from her seat in the living room, displaying that infamous sixth sense and clairvoyant vision all mothers posess. 

Freezing like children caught in the cookie jar, Shinichi and Kaito glanced over their shoulders at the empty kitchen door, mutually wondering once again how their mothers always _knew_. Then they looked at each other--one with a splash of water down his shirt and the other with soap bubbles on his face--and began to snicker. 

Shinichi pulled off Conan's foam-smeared glasses and halfheartedly attempted to clean them off so he could see; the snickers began to grow into laughter as he gave up and left the soapy glasses on the counter. Grinning mirthfully at each other, the two boys resumed their duties with ineffectual endeavors to remain serious. It was hard to hold on to wet, slippery dishes when one was laughing--and broken plates would definitely fit Yukiko's definition of a mess. 

Out in the living room, Yukiko's face certainly didn't match the stern tones her voice had contained. She and Fumiyo looked to be barely holding back laughter themselves. Ran was the one who couldn't contain her mirth--giggling, she covered her mouth with both hands and tried not to let the sound carry and therefore spoil Yukiko's command. Fortunately for her, the laughter from the kitchen would have drowned her out anyway. 

She felt her heart lighten as she heard the chuckles from the other room; she'd rarely heard Conan laugh like that--she knew _why_ now, and knowing what she knew it was gladdening to hear Shinichi's laughter ringing out without reserve. 

Fumiyo and Yukiko shared looks of maternal affection and resignation--boys will be boys, after all--and resumed their conversation. Ran joined in--still giggling faintly, and listening to the sounds of clanking dishes, swirling water, and industrious scrubbing. The noises were a _bit_ more...boisterous than before. 

It wasn't long before she heard the patter of feet and the slamming of cupboard doors, indicating that the dishes were being rapidly put away. There was a little more running water, shushed murmurs, and the _scrape_ of a stool being scooted across the floor--and then the two dish-scrubbers themselves appeared in the doorway. 

Ran almost burst out laughing _again_; Conan's glasses were absent and his hair was somewhat damp, and the front of Kaito's shirt looked as though it had been generously doused with water. "What were you two _doing?_" she managed to ask before mirth overtook her. The mothers also quirked their eyebrows, looking remarkably unaffected. In fact, they looked more surprised with the fact that _this_ was the extent of the damage, both giving their sons reproachful, inquiring gazes that spoke volumes. 

The somewhat bedraggled boys glanced at each other with twin looks of annoyance and chagrin. "It's _his_ fault," said what was almost a single voice, a perfect tonal combination of soprano and tenor--accompanied by two accusing fingers. 

With that, the two older women could no longer hold down their giggles. Ran was no longer alone in her laughter as the three women collapsed into a puddle of hilarity, drawing identical vexed expressions from the two half-sodden males. 

"Ah..." Yukiko gasped for breath, wiping tears from her eyes as she fought to speak. "I'm sorry to cut this short...but the kids _do_ have school in the morning, and Shin-chan needs his sleep. Ran-chan...?" 

"Aw, _Mom_..." Shinichi grumbled. 

"Yes, Obachan..." Ran replied, struggling to regain a straight face. "It's past Conan-kun's bedtime, anyway." She only managed to appear mildly apologetic at the disgusted look Shinichi cast her way. 

"_You_ have a bedtime?" Kaito snickered, eyeing his small compatriot. 

"Shut up! It's _Conan's_, not mine." Shinichi's chin jutted defiantly. This only drew a few more snorts of amusement from the observers. 

"It's a good idea for all of us," Fumiyo agreed, rising from the couch. "I'd say it's best that we all head for bed. I'm sure we've all had a long day--and we'd better go soon, Kaito, or we won't catch the last bus home." 

At this, Ran popped up from her spot. "That's right--Yukiko-obachan's had a long day, and she's probably tired after traveling this weekend, and the baby too--we should let her get her sleep. Don't forget your glasses, Shinichi." 

Gradually, with grumbles from the boys, they all moved in a weary herd toward the front door, fetching glasses, coats, and backpacks. Kaito smiled at his aunt and Ran, and teasingly ruffled Shinichi's hair, while his mother hugged Yukiko and the two older women said their goodbyes. With a last wave, Fumiyo headed down the walkway; with one final grin and a nod, Kaito followed his mother and the two vanished into the darkness, heading home. 

The trio on the porch stood still for a while, watching them go--until Shinichi turned to look up at his mother. "Mom...will you be okay here all by yourself?" 

"Of course I will!" Yukiko replied, any traces of worry disappearing from her face. "I can take care of myself--and besides, I've spent time alone here before." 

The small boy's expression was still darkened by worry, but he didn't press further. Ran watched the play of emotion across his young face, feeling for him, wishing there was something she could do to help resolve this whole frightening, puzzling, painful situation. "We can come check on her every day, Shinichi," she offered softly. "It's right on our way home." 

"What about you, Shin-chan?" Yukiko asked abruptly, her voice touched with concern. "Until after dinner tonight, you were so..." 

Shinichi's answering smile was faint and brushed with sadness, but his eyes were bright and clear. "I'm okay now, Mom. It...still hurts, but...I'll survive." He looked up, meeting her gaze evenly. "_We'll_ survive...until Dad comes back. And he _will_." 

Yukiko somehow swallowed down the lump in her throat and knelt to pull her son into a snug embrace. He mumbled something embarassedly, offering token resistance mainly for Ran's benefit, but his small arms also came around her and squeezed in return. When she released him, a faintly-blushing Shinichi stepped off the porch with a quick "G'night, Mom," and waited impatiently on the walkway for Ran. Yukiko then gave Ran a kindly hug goodnight and sent her on her way with a soft whisper. 

"Take care of him, Ran-chan." 

The young girl's eyes glimmered in the porchlight as she glanced back, filled with silent promise. On the walkway, Shinichi skittered up to her, automatically reaching for her hand, trotting close at her side as the mismatched pair headed for the street. Just at the edge of the light, Yukiko could see Ran's hand, engulfing Shinichi's smaller one, clutch tighter and pull the boy even closer. 

Yukiko stood still, arms wrapped around herself, to watch them go. Even when they were out of sight, out the gate, on their way home, she remained standing in the chill of the evening, staring into emptiness. 

At last, she shook herself and turned to go inside. When the door shut behind her, she leaned heavily against it, feeling suddenly lonely. The house was cold and still; without the laughter and warmth of her family and friends it was nothing but a big empty box. She was isolated, utterly alone. 

Alone, with only the precious knowledge of her unborn child to keep her company. 

With tears in her eyes and a shuddering breath, Yukiko hurried to her bedroom--yet another hollow void without the presence of her husband--and shut the door fast behind her, trying to block out the loneliness and desolation of the silent, empty house. 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _The mystery is coming, I **promise**..._


	20. First Steps

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 20: First Steps**

Bleary and unfocused, Kaito woke to the incessant jangle of his alarm clock and the urgent voice of his mother. 

"Kaito, wake up!" she said, shaking him gently. "You're going to be late for school! Kaito! For heaven's sake, you were supposed to be up half an hour ago--" 

"Huh?" A sudden wave of horror swept through him, bringing him bolt upright and abruptly awake--or at least _conscious_. Swiping at his clock, he shut it off and brought it close to his sleep-filled eyes in the same movement, just managing to focus enough to make out the time. "Oh _crap!_" 

Shaking her head in scolding resignation, Fumiyo stepped aside to allow her son passage as he flew out of his bed, reaching the closet in a single bound. "I should have known" she sighed. "Letting you play with Shin-chan last night instead of making you finish your homework, while you were making a mess in Yukiko-chan's kitchen..." 

"_Mother_..." he groaned, dragging his school uniform off its hanger and giving her a long-suffering glance. "Can I get dressed?" 

She shook her finger at his weary, annoyed tone. "You'd better be out of this house in ten minutes, young man. And from now on your homework is finished _before_ you fool around." 

With that, she left the room, pulling the door shut behind her. 

"Aaargh...weren't _you_ the one telling me to help out in the kitchen last night?" Kaito muttered crossly. He rolled his eyes, sleepy and irked and already getting the feeling that this was going to be a _really_ long day. It just seemed to _happen_ when things started out like this... 

He was dressed within seconds; sometimes being a master of disguise really paid off on mornings when he was running late. It took a little longer to scoop up his papers from his desk and shove them into his binder, which was stuffed in his school bag along with his books. Bag in hand, he was dashing down the hall inside of three minutes after his mother had left, stopping at the bathroom only long enough to brush his teeth, wash his face, and make a halfhearted attempt to comb his disorderly mane. As usual, it made little difference if he brushed it or not; it seemed that his mother was the only person who could get his hair to cooperate. 

With that out of the way, he had a grand total of five minutes in which to enjoy breakfast. He wolfed down everything in a hurry, leaving himself a bit of time to get to the door. With his toast jammed in his mouth, he paused at the entryway to pull his shoes on--doing an ungaingly little hop-dance as he fought each one onto a foot--then grabbed the lunchbox his mother held out to him accompanied by a cheerful, "Have a good day, Kaito!" 

"Mmhmph!" he replied around the toast--even the greatest ventriloquist can only do so much with his mouth full--dashing out the door in a hurry and praying he hadn't forgotten anything essential. He was fully dressed, with his bookbag in one hand and his lunch in the other--check and double-check. Shifting his burdens so that he could finish devouring his toast, he pelted down the sidewalk at a rapid pace. 

Obviously, Aoko Nakamori was very, _very_ impatient by the time he caught up to her--well beyond their usual point of intersection, just a ways from the school gates. It wasn't like him to be running late, he knew, and she wasn't the kind of girl who enjoyed waiting. 

"There you are!" she exploded as he pulled alongside her. "What on earth took you so long?" 

"I overslept," he replied innocently, keeping a wary eye on the trajectory of her bookbag. "No big deal." 

"I'll bet," Aoko snorted. "Were you slacking on your homework again?" 

"Nothing of the sort," he responded loftily, looking away as they passed through the front gates. "I'll have you know I was washing dishes." 

"That's funny," said a female voice from behind them. "I never pictured _you_ as the domestic sort, Kuroba-kun." 

Both of them glanced back, Aoko brightening, Kaito frowning. "Akako-chan!" Aoko gasped, a little startled at her sudden appearance as the taller girl picked up her pace to walk alongside them. "How are you this morning?" 

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Akako replied, casting a rather sly glance at Kaito. "With such weather as we're about to have, I should think it will get harder to fall asleep at night." 

"What are you flapping your lips about this time?" Kaito inquired boredly, cocking one eyebrow with an air of disinterest. "If you have trouble falling asleep, maybe you should turn your crystal ball off at night." 

"_Very_ amusing," Akako purred in reply. 

"Did you see a bad weather report on the news this morning?" Aoko asked, oblivious to the unspoken interplay between her two companions. "I just heard on the radio that it's supposed to rain through the weekend." 

"Indeed," Akako replied, glancing at Kaito once again. "Though mere raindrops might not be the only things falling from the sky." 

"You think it's going to snow?" 

Kaito's eyes narrowed--only so long as Aoko wasn't looking at him--as Akako smiled catlike with her reply. "Perhaps, Nakamori. Perhaps..." 

"It might rain cats and dogs, but it's the wrong time of year for snow," Kaito broke in, uncharacteristically abrupt. "Hey, Koizumi, would you mind not hanging around my elbow whenever I set foot in the schoolyard?" 

Akako smiled again in that mysterious way of hers, ducking back and coming up again beside Aoko instead. "Why, certainly. I'm sure Nakamori-chan and I have _so_ much more to talk about..." 

Aoko brightened considerably at Akako's more familiar use of her name and began to talk to her about upcoming events of the school day. Kaito merely eyed the dark-haired girl suspiciously, wondering what she had up her sleeves this time--wondering what she knew and what she would do with that knowledge. 

The bell began to ring as the trio walked up the steps and into the school building. 

* * * * *

As usual, Kogoro Mouri's snoring helped to wake Conan up long before his alarm clock went off. Casting a sleepy, annoyed glare at the oblivious log on the bed across the room, the small boy yawned and sat up. Of course, rumbling snores weren't the _only_ reason he was up this damnably early; certain needs made themselves known, insistently, so he rolled out of his futon and pulled on his glasses, muscles still sluggish from sleep. Scowling, he gained his feet and trotted out the door, guided less by sight and more by long habit. 

He made a slightly staggering beeline for the bathroom, thinking unpleasant thoughts about how frequently little boys needed to use the toilet and the predictable level of urgency when they did. Still half-asleep and not all that alert just yet, he couldn't react in time to avoid colliding with Ran when she stepped out of her bedroom door, equally drowsy. He crashed into her legs, almost unbalancing her, while he tumbled to the floor from the impact. 

"Oh, Conan-kun...!" Startled, Ran knelt quickly to help him up, both of them blinking in sleepy surprise. "Are you okay?" 

"Um...fine," Conan mumbled, rubbing his sore nose. "You're supposed to signal before merging into traffic..." 

She managed a giggle, even as drowsy as she still was. "I know, I know. I'm sorry! Here, go ahead." She stepped aside, clearing a tempting path to the bathroom. 

He almost went for it, but his gentlemanly nature got the better of him. "Ladies first!" he chirped, putting on a perfectly cheerful face. He had at least a little leeway before _pinch_ became _crisis_. "I can wait." 

"Why thank you," she replied with a gracious smile, stepping inside and closing the door. 

"Just don't take too long!" he called after her. When he got no response from within, he drooped defeatedly and leaned against the wall near the door, looking somewhat miserable and trying not to fidget. 

Once Ran was back in her room getting ready and certain highly important matters were seen to, Conan picked out his own clothes for the day and dressed quickly, anticipating the sounds that would let him know the kitchen was occupied and in full operation. 

He wasn't disappointed. It didn't take Ran long to start making breakfast, clattering with pots and pans and preparing a delicious meal. Pulling on the last pieces of his wardrobe and scooping up his all-important bowtie, he picked up his backpack and was hurrying out the door before Kogoro even began to grumpily pull his eyes open. 

"All ready to go?" Ran asked as he darted in the kitchen door, sounding for a moment almost like the gentle, chiding Ran-neechan of old. "Make sure you don't forget anything this time." 

"I'm not a scatterbrained little kid," he reminded her wryly, trying to peer over the edge of the stove. "Hey Ran, what's for breakfast?" 

"You'll just have to wait and see!" she replied with a secretive smile, putting a lid on the pot even as he bounced on tiptoe in his attempts to peek. 

"Aww...no fair!" He crossed his arms with a sullen pout that was ninety percent good acting, ten percent resentment at the kitchen's height requirement. 

"Why don't you go let Dad know it'll be done in a minute?" she suggested, fetching a stack of plates from the cupboard. "I'll be getting it on the table by the time you're back." 

"Ack, you're sending me on a suicide mission?" The pout was replaced by wide, pitiful eyes that Ran merely shook her spoon at. 

"Oh, come on," she chided. "If you stay out of arms' reach, you'll be fine." 

"Yeah, yeah, thanks a lot..." he muttered, marching off to do his duty, looking like a man going to his execution. 

As Ran smiled and stirred, keeping an ear open, she reflected that it really wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was some irate grumbling and the _thwap!_ of a pillow hitting the wall; nonetheless, Conan came back in one piece--in a hurry to get within her protective proximity, of course, but still unharmed. Her father plunked down in the living room moments later, still in his pajamas and looking remarkably like a storybook oni. It would take a good hot breakfast and a couple of hours' worth of smoking before his morning scowl wore off. 

Until her father _did_ become human, there was no getting Conan out of her immediate vicinity; the danger of head-thwapping was obviously far too large a concern. He obligingly helped her carry things to the table, following her to and from the kitchen, skittering about in a merrily erratic sort of orbit around her. He was quite the morning person--once he got warmed up, that is--and looked every bit the bright, bouncing seven-year-old. 

As she sat down to eat with them, watching his eager face and enthusiastic eating, she had to wonder if this was real. If he was truly this happy...or if he was just falling into Conan again, hiding his anger and sadness behind the familiar mask of innocent child. He'd done it so often in the past, she knew now; it wouldn't be hard for him to use an old habit to conceal his true feelings from her and the world. 

Conan was still cheerful as she finished packing their lunches; he was still smiling as she bid goodbye to her father and gathered her bookbag to follow the small form bounding down the steps. 

Once they were safely out of her father's range, she had to ask. 

"Co--Shinichi, are you really this happy?" 

"Eh?" A bit startled by her question, he looked up at her wide-eyed; his expression grew more serious when he saw the earnest concern on her face. "Why do you ask?" 

Taking a deep breath, she stared at the sidewalk going by beneath her feet. "Yesterday, with your father leaving...and last night at dinner...it seemed like you were so upset. Like you were so sad you'd never be the same again..." She had to pause again, finding the right words to continue. "I don't mean to drag up a painful subject, but...it took me _days_ to even _start_ getting over my parents splitting up...and I can't imagine that you could just be..." 

Conan's sad smile of reply had so much Shinichi in it that she caught her breath. "I _was_ upset," he told her softly. "And I _am_ still sad. And angry. And worried. But Kaito showed me something last night besides that silly flower trick..." He looked up at her again, his blue eyes brightening with inner strength. "It's not the end of the world because Dad left--and I know he'll come back. I still have Mom...and I know for sure that Kaito and Obasan will always be there too. And _you're_ here...so...I'm not alone." 

Swallowing hard, she watched the sparkle of emotions pass through his young/old eyes, marveling at the depth and brilliance of the faith and love shining forth from them. 

"I'm okay, Ran," he said at length, smiling up at her again, this time without a trace of sadness. "I'll be fine." 

Ran smiled as well, unable to help it. "I'm glad to hear that, Shinichi." 

"_Conan-kuuun!_" 

"Oops, here comes the Kiddie Patrol," Conan groaned, his expression turning wry as the three Young Detectives spotted them and began to sprint in their direction. "Ready for another day, Ran-neechan?" 

"You bet I am, Conan-kun!" 

Laughing, they hurried to meet the other children, the personas of little boy and big sister falling easily into place. But this time the masks were thin, almost unnecessary; the truth shone through for those who had the eyes to see it, who knew what they were looking for. 

Another ordinary day began, accompanied by three eager Young Detectives and one silent blond-haired girl; their group was soon joined by Sonoko, adding to the cheer and chatter. They split up at last to head for their separate destinations, one to the elementary, the other to the high school. 

The bells began to ring as the two groups walked up the steps and into their respective school buildings. 

* * * * *

Yukiko sighed as she stared into her cup of coffee. She sat silently at the kitchen table, dressed in her soft robe, listening to the muffled noises of the vacant house around her and, dimly, the sounds of the neighborhood children heading off to school. She hadn't bothered to make breakfast; there seemed to be little point in cooking just for herself. It would be a waste of effort and dishes. So she had just put on a pot of coffee and stared out the kitchen window while it brewed, thinking of happier times. Drinking the coffee itself didn't help either; it soothed nothing, and only helped lift away the comforting fog of half-remembered dreams. 

The house seemed so hollow and empty without her family in it. With no husband to banter with, no son to scoot out the door to school, her entire existence seemed almost frozen in time. There were no warm smells in the kitchen, no busy morning sounds or cheerful voices, no smiling familiar faces, no warm embraces... 

Someone had left windows open; she could still hear the laughter of the youngsters on the street outside as they hurried along with their friends, playing and skipping and talking. She glanced toward the doorway, lonely memories reaching for a particular moment in time. 

Her son--younger, perhaps thirteen or fourteen, just before they'd left him behind--coming into the kitchen dressed for school, setting his bookbag on the table with a wide grin and asking, _"Hey Mom, what's for breakfast?"_

Yukiko shook her head, shaking away the image. It hurt to remember the way things were--the way she wished things could still be. By the time she'd really _grown up_ and become the mother she should have been, Shinichi was getting older and Yuusaku was getting impatient...but Shin-chan wouldn't leave Ran-chan behind, so when their son was finally old enough they let him choose... 

As she looked down, another rmemory surfaced; again of her son, looking like he did _now_--seven or eight, with the same sweet, elfin face and dark blue eyes, but lacking that keen edge and unknowable depth that "Conan" posessed. The image of that cute little boy clung to the sleeve of her bathrobe, smiling up at her. _"Good morning, Momma!"_

Blinking back tears, Yukiko stood up abruptly, pacing back to the kitchen counter. Sometimes she couldn't believe what she'd ignored back then, how much she'd missed...things she was determined _not_ to let pass her by this time around. When her son was born, she'd been so young--so self-centered and immature that she had not understood then what motherhood _meant_, nor how much she'd miss if she was so wrapped up in herself and her lost career. Even though she'd loved her baby boy to pieces, she had never realized what her selfish attitude would do to him. 

With _this_ child, perhaps she would do things right--and perhaps someday find the words to tell her firstborn everything she needed to say to him. He needed to know how much she loved him, how she didn't regret a moment of his life, how sorry she was that she'd been so ignorant for so long... 

But everything was _wrong_. Things were going awry, and badly; Yuusaku had packed up an left, poor Shin-chan had been transformed by some poison drug, and every step they took toward healing the past they'd left behind only brought all of them closer to discovery and death. 

If only that horrid Organization had never existed! Then her family would still be whole--Fumiyo-chan's husband would be alive, Yuusaku would still be with her, Shin-chan wouldn't have to live like that... She wiped her eyes on the back of her robe sleeve, trying to will her tears away but finding that the strength to do so just wouldn't come. She could pretend for an audience, like Ran-chan or Shin-chan--she was a true actress, after all--but by herself, with no one to fool...she was helpless. She was _alone_. 

"Maybe I should go shopping," she said tearfully into the silence, just to hear a human voice. She would have to eat sometime, and Fumiyo-chan's leftovers wouldn't last forever. Though the tears just kept falling, she poured herself another cup of coffee and tried to think only of grocery lists. 

In the distance, she could hear the school bells ringing. 

* * * * *

Lunchtime at Teitan Elementary was, as usual, utter chaos. The post-meal recess was only more so, complicated by the thickening gray promise of bad weather. Add that to a general low-grade feeling of anxiety from the events of the last few days, and the result was a very tense, forlorn, distracted Conan Edogawa. No matter what he'd told Ran, he was _still_ more affected than he wanted anyone to know. 

Apparently, seven-year-olds had no respect for one's privacy nor introspection. The only reason Conan had acceded to the Young Detectives' wheedling and gone outside to play was to get away from the icy presence of one Ai Haibara, currently pissed-off little girl. She had a _scary_ cold shoulder when she was mad at someone. 

Still, running about like a half-cocked chicken playing soccer with two dozen little squirts--no matter that it was his favorite game--was really _grating_ when he just wanted to sit in a corner and brood. Every time he wanted to duck out of the game, Ayumi would get that _look_ and start to tear up, Mitsuhiko would begin to scold him, and Genta would stomp over to glare at him threateningly for making Ayumi-chan cry. 

Honestly, he wanted to strangle them. If this was their idea of cheering Conan-kun up... 

And energetic gradeschoolers didn't really play _soccer_, anyway. It was instead a crowded, unpredictable free-for-all that consisted of chasing the ball in every direction across the field--rarely toward a goal--with little attention to such things as out-of-bounds, player positions, or whose goal was whose. Even the goalies had long since abandoned their posts; the sole purpose of the madcap chase seemed to be getting one's foot on the ball, hopefully in the form of a kick. Just getting the ball once made a kid's face light up for the entirety of recess, even if they didn't even kick it in the right direction. 

Conan seemed to be the only one on the field with even a basic concept of _which_ direction was the right one. Not that anyone _else_ cared to listen to him. And, being smaller than most of the recently-fed, overly-enthusiastic cannonballs on two legs, he was hesitant to wade into the morass and _show_ them. So he just tagged along with the crowd of ball-chasers, watching Ayumi keep close tabs on him. 

Whatever the Young Detectives had planned that morning to get Conan out from under the obvious dark cloud, it wasn't going to work. Not if he had anything to say about it. 

But, as luck would have it, the ball--and thus the crowd--was coming his way. By some chance, several well-meaning young players--some of the many who had completely forgotten even whose side they were on--made a mass move on the rolling ball that served to send it popping out of the middle of the group like a bar of soap. Conan almost tripped over the conveniently-placed soccer ball that rolled into his feet--then wondered if Genta, one of those currently dogpiled under a domino-fall of small bodies, had something to do with this impromptu pass. 

Glancing at the still-confused crowd, then at the goal, he felt a smile spreading across his face. With quick steps, he dribbled the ball around the few remaining attentive players, zipping between them like they weren't even moving. Three youngsters, apparently thinking they were goalies, placed themselves in front of the goal with determined expressions--as well as some trepidation. 

Edogawa-kun had quite the reputation as a soccer player. 

His grin growing ever wider, Conan hauled back and kicked, launching the ball forward with astonishing force for one so small. He wouldn't stoop to using his kick shoes against a group of gradeschoolers--and besides, there was really no need to do something so drastic. It was this same skill, used ten years ago, that had made Shinichi Kudo famous in the Elementary Soccer League. Conan Edogawa--shooting with the precise aim and timing of an adult plus the wiry muscles of a little boy who exercised very differently from his peers--surpassed even that. 

The ball whipped past the three would-be goalies before they had time to respond. It smashed into the net and was pulled to a reluctant stop amidst resounding cheers; about three-quarters of the kids on the field were jumping up and down--obviously there were a few who had lost track of which goal was theirs. 

Conan caught himself grinning crazily--caught himself feeling _good_, feeling exhilarated at the swift play. He turned wry eyes toward the Genta, Mitsuhiko, and Ayumi, who were currently patting themselves on the back as they ran toward him. He saw the sly, pleased looks on their giggling faces and couldn't help but chuckle. 

Blast them, they'd gotten away with cheering him up. He'd have to get them for that. 

One of the three "goalies" fetched the soccer ball out of the net and tossed it back into play--which elicited about the same response as throwing a piece of bread into a pond full of ducks. The gradeschoolers went after the ball like a school of fish, and Conan went with them--yelling at the Young Detectives to hurry it up or they'd miss out. With squeals of delight from Ayumi--"Conan-kun's back to normal!"--and excited exclamations from the two boys, they followed his lead. 

This time, the feared Edogawa didn't wait for the ball to come to him. He darted through the milling gradeschoolers like quicksilver, taking control of the ball time and time again, making the crowd of eager children _work_ before he relinquished it to them--forcing them to think faster, run harder, and play smarter. For one period of recess he lost himself in the game, pushing his limits and theirs; playing, teasing, teaching, testing--and winning. 

Winning one more step upward in the battle against grief and despair--one step closer to healing. 

* * * * *

This had been, Kaito reflected, one of the _calmest_ days of school he'd had in a very long time. Aoko had been in a surprisingly quiet mood all day for some reason, especially considering his lateness that morning; it would usually have made her peeved at him at least until lunchtime. 

It may have had something to do with his _own_ quietness, he had to admit. He hadn't teased her during math--not enough to get a mop-battle out of her, anyway--and didn't flip her skirt, not even once. Nor had he brought up the subject of Kaitou Kid, usually a sure-fire way to get a response out of Inspector Nakamori's righteous, law-abiding daughter. 

Then again, he'd sort of _forgotten_ to. 

Kaito honestly hadn't expected the last few days' events to affect him like they had. No one around him would notice a difference--well, except perhaps his mother and that weirdo Akako Koizumi--but he'd been just this side of preoccupied ever since he'd really met up with his cousin. It had only gotten worse when his uncle had shown up, torn his family's emotions to shreds, and then just _left_... 

Yeah, that was _part_ of it--part of the quiet, insistent distraction that had nagged inside him for days now. Part of why he was trudging silently along beside two young women who were chatting as amiably as he normally should have been. Aoko was as pleasant as she ever was, and Akako was talking to her in as friendly a tone as she ever would. 

It always surprised him that Koizumi was so _nice_ to Aoko, considering her stated intentions and rather one-sided rivalry. The young witch had made it abundantly clear that she intended to snare the heart of the Kid, and though she had somehow gotten it in her head that Aoko was in the way, so far she'd done nothing to harm his best friend. She confined her various attempts to his person alone, which was fine with him--no sense in getting other people involved in a personal...disagreement. Though today he'd gotten rather tired of peeling her off his desk and sending her on her way... 

He cast a side-eyed look at the girls beside him as they headed away from the shoe lockers and toward the front doors. Even as absent-minded as he'd been today, he never let Akako's serruptitious glances slip by him. He could never quite read her as well as he would've liked, so he made it a habit to keep half an eye on her no matter what they were doing. Her knowledge of him, as well as her rather capricious outward nature, made her a definite security risk; even though he'd never admitted a thing to her and he was _fairly_ safe in having proven himself "innocent" several times, she still knew the truth--and she could still bring him down that way if she chose. 

Deflecting Akako's flirtations had been enough of a bother today. If Saguru Hakuba had been in town to annoy him, he probably would've done something drastic. Like, say, make all their pens and pencils disappear, just so the two of them would have to take a trip to the school supply room and therefore _out of his hair_ for a while. 

Heaving a sigh, he folded his hands behind his head as he walked, carrying his bookbag, absently listening to Aoko's bright voice bantering back and forth with Akako's smoother, more sultry tones. In just a little while, Akako's path would divert from theirs, and he wouldn't have to be on-guard any more--in a little while, he could talk to Aoko without the witch's sly gaze and casual innuendo. Most of the time he was ready to play the game, but today it was just troublesome. He had more important things to dwell on. Not that he _should_ have been this moody about anything--Aoko would start to _notice_ if he kept being so uncharacteristically glum. 

But even when Akako left, saying her goodbyes and heading down her own street, that didn't make the feeling go away. Even though he was talking just to Aoko now, just as jovial as he always was, there was still _that_ between them. That one little fact that Akako had to hold over his head--that one thing that Aoko just _couldn't know_. If she did, his whole world would come crashing down like a house of cards. It was a scenario so awful that not even his worst nightmares had been able to present it to him. 

Kaitou Kid still formed a laughing white wall between himself and Aoko. As long as she didn't know the truth, she couldn't know everything--she couldn't get close to him, couldn't understand him completely. She called him a mystery, saying that he was becoming such a magician that she didn't know him any more--she had once even accused him of being utterly cold to her. Cold and sweet, like ice cream--like a friendly stranger who treated her well yet she knew nothing about. 

He was being cruel to be kind. If she knew the truth about him, about his father, about what he really was...she would be hurt. It would wound her to know that he had lied to her, that her best friend and worst enemy were the same person. Her heart would shatter--and if he broke hers, he would destroy his own. He couldn't hurt her like that--so he kept his betrayal of their friendship a secret, hiding behind his goofy cordiality, sometimes wondering which mask was the real one... 

She was good and just and fair, always taking the side of right; he couldn't ask her to betray her father and everything she believed in. Not for his sake. And if she knew, he would force her into a choice she should never have to make. To have her hold his life in her hands and have to choose...it was a burden that was utterly wrong to lay upon her. 

And, secretly, there was the fearful certainty that she would stand by her beliefs and choose the side of justice, handing him over to her father and the forces of law. Her vehement dislike of Kid made that clear enough. She would be _angry_ as well as hurt. 

So he could never let her know. 

It was times like this that he really envied his diminutive cousin. Perhaps it had been a bit risky for Shinichi to let Ran know the truth, but in the end they were both better off for it. They were really _together_ now, with no secrets and lies between them. But it helped that Ran hadn't hated Conan to begin with... 

His introspections kept turning as he chattered with Aoko, never missing a beat; his various Poker Faces were as deceptive as ever, masking his unease behind cheer and silliness and the usual Kaito that his friend had come to expect. He continued to walk Aoko home, betraying nothing of what lay hidden within. He would see her safely to her doorstep, wish her good day, and leave her smiling there none the wiser. He'd been doing it for months now. He could do it again. 

And he would do it again and again, as long as it took, as long as she never knew. 

* * * * *

By the time Ran and Conan met at the corner after school, they were casting worried glances skyward at the dismal gray clouds that hung threateningly over the city. The weather report on TV that Mouri had been grumbling about after breakfast was probably quite an accurate forecast; rain looked likely despite the generally pleasant morning it had been. And due to that only-slightly-cloudy sky, neither Ran nor Conan had an umbrella handy--nor were they dressed for inclement weather. 

Sonoko and the Young Detectives also departed for home at a good pace, upon unspoken agreement that playing around outside today was not the best of ideas. They all parted ways with cheerful waves and promises for tomorrow, Sonoko toward her house and the three youngsters in the direction of the corner where they would split up to head home. Ran and Conan hoofed it for the Mouri Detective Agency as the breeze grew chilly. 

Despite the cool air, or perhaps because of it, they were almost laughing as they ran toward the inviting doorway, racing up the stairs--with Conan calling "No fair!" as Ran took them two at a time--not even pausing when they heard Kogoro's voice from the office grumping loudly about something with their names attached to it. They were headed for the warm upstairs living area where a kitchen, a pot of hot water, and a box of tea waited for them. 

It didn't take them long to be settled down with hot tea and homework in Ran's room, she at her desk and Conan on the bed, both with their books before them. As the work commenced, they chatted quietly about their days at school, Ran giggling about Conan's adventures in soccer, Conan inquiring about his former classmates and teachers at the high school. They shared their thoughts good-naturedly, laughing, teasing, and talking much like they had in the seemingly-distant past--a wistfulness that neither of them chose to give voice to. 

Conan's kiddy homework was done in a flash, as usual, accompanied by sarcastic comments about its difficulty. Ran scolded him teasingly about his homework record when they'd been at Teitan Elementary together, the first time around. Conan snorted about this with a reply that it had been boring then too, but he'd not had the discipline to stick it through like he did now. Ran didn't look all that convinced, but only laughed with him as Conan perched on the edge of her desk--much like he'd sat near Kaito the night before--and participated in completing her science assignment. 

He was dismayed to find out how much he'd fallen behind in his absence, how much Ran and the other members of his class were learning while he was stuck in a re-education course. He was highly intelligent and an eager learner--by no means ignorant--but he'd been gone so long that he felt keenly the lack of the books and lessons and information that made up the gap. There were questions in Ran's homework assignment that he didn't know the answers to--some he couldn't even _begin_ to guess--and it was almost _grating_ to know that she and the others had passed him up. 

Seeing his discouragement, Ran promised him earnestly that from now on, she'd invite him to help with her homework and even--avoiding words like "tutor" or "teach" for the sake of his pride--show him lessons of months past so that he would be once again on the same page as the rest of his former classmates. His disheartened look faded to be replaced by gratitude, and he willingly dove into Ran's present assignment, listening carefully as she repeated her teacher's lesson on the subject, asking very apt questions despite his lack of direct knowledge. 

In Ran's opinion, it wouldn't take him long at all to be once again three steps ahead of everyone else his age. Well, his _real_ age... 

The homework session continued until the phone rang, and Ran excused herself to go answer it, leaving Conan with her history book. A moment later, her voice called him out of its pages. 

"Conan-kun! Ayumi-chan's on the phone!" 

"Coming!" he replied, leaving the book open on the desk and hopping down to trot into the living room. "Sheesh, what's she want to do?" he mutterd. "It's gonna rain anyway, so we can't go the park..." 

"It's not her fault she's got a crush on you," Ran scolded, trying to hide her smile as she covered the receiver. "Any girl would, you know. So you be nice to her." 

Conan gave her a very distinct _look_. "Yes, Mommy, now may I have the phone please?" 

"Okay. Behave yourself," Ran giggled lightly, heading back to her room. "I'll be waiting!" 

His look followed her until she disappeared through her door. Then, Conan rolled his eyes and put his little-boy voice on. "Hi, Ayumi-chan! What's--" 

"Hey Conan-kun!" came a loud bellow from the phone, one that made him flinch back from the handset. 

"Genta!" he exclaimed, startled. "What are you doing? Give Ayumi back the phone!" 

"No can do," said Mitsuhiko. "'Cause she's not here." 

"And neither is Genta-kun," said Ayumi. 

"Huh...?" For a moment, Conan blinked at the phone. Then it _clicked_, and a frown replaced his confusion, draining the cuteness from his voice. "Oh, it's _you_. What are you up to now?" 

The laughter from the other end suddenly resembled neither a youngster nor a female of any age. "Sorry 'bout that--I just couldn't resist," Kaito chuckled, not sounding too apologetic. 

"You think that's funny, huh? If I had my bowtie..." Conan took a breath and rolled his eyes. "What are you calling for, anyway?" 

"I wanted to see if you had any free time," Kaito replied, the last traces of mirth fading from his voice. "About that thing I mentioned last night." 

"Oh, your...plans?" Conan glanced at the clock. "I guess; my homework's done, of course. The weather's getting bad though." 

"Don't worry, it won't be too far. It's not much of a walk to the bus station from here." 

"Here? Where's here?" Conan could hear a slight resonance to Kaito's voice that seemed to suggest he was speaking in an enclosed area. "Let me guess--phone booth, by the sound of it." 

"Bingo!" Kaito chuckled briefly. "You're good. I'm just a quick walk down the street from you, within sight of the Agency." 

"I know where you are," Conan sighed, remembering that particular phone booth as one he used quite frequently, placing calls to Ran as Shinichi Kudo. "You came all this way just to ask if I'm coming? You must be pretty sure of yourself." 

"I just figured you'd probably want to come." 

Conan could almost hear the indifferent shrug in Kaito's voice--an insincere indifference, a mask only. "I suppose I could...just to look. If you give me a minute, I'll meet you on the sidewalk." 

"Okay. See you then!" 

"Yeah..." 

With that, he hung up the phone, wondering what he was going to tell Ran about this. Here he thinking of running off with his cousin to help him prepare to steal something. How would that sound? 

_"Hey Ran, just going to Kaito's for a while--gotta help the Kid plan another heist. See you for dinner!"_

"_That'll_ go over real well," he muttered, turning to head for Ran's room--and freezing in startled surprise when he saw her standing in her doorway, expression serious. 

"I heard you talking and...I kind of got the feeling that it wasn't really Ayumi-chan on the phone," she said quietly. "You don't sound like _you_ when you talk to the little kids." 

"Ran, I...uh..." 

"It's _him_, isn't it?" she continued, more statement than question. "Your cousin." 

"Yeah," he replied, tossing aside any attempt at deception. "He wants me to come over and look at some things, and help him out with some plans..." 

Ran's lips drew into a thin line. "He's planning to steal something again, isn't he?" 

Silent, Conan nodded. 

For a while, Ran didn't say anything. He watched her, head lowered, through his unruly bangs, hoping that she would somehow understand--though he wasn't sure how she could when _he_ could hardly understand it himself... 

"I...I trust you, Shinichi," she spoke softly, frowning earnestly. "I have to believe you know what you're doing, and that you'll know when you're going too far." 

_So do I--I hope._ "Ran...I'm not denying that what he's doing isn't exactly lawful, but...both of us alone haven't been able to do anything, so we've _got_ to try something together. Otherwise..." 

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "I know." 

"I _won't_ let things get too far--that I promise you." He met her eyes, honest and open. "Kaito and I are after the same thing--we _have_ to bring those bastards down before they hurt anyone else--and if this is the only way--" 

"--then you'll do it." Ran's face shifted to a wan smile, hiding the sadness beneath. 

"Listen, it's not too serious right now," he tried to reassure her. "I'm just going to his house to look at some blueprints, just to see his plan of action and offer what help I can--you know, just strategy and that kind of thing--" 

"Shinichi, you probably shouldn't tell me any more than you absolutely have to," she interrupted, looking down. "I know you trust me, and I know you promised not to hide things from me, but...I probably shouldn't know too much. I don't want to...compromise your secret without meaning to--yours or Kuroba-kun's." 

"Ran..." 

"Just go." She looked up sharply again, her dark eyes pinning his own. "And come back soon." 

With a hard swallow, he nodded. "Thanks, Ran." 

She just watched him silently as he hurried to pull on his shoes and coat, not saying a word as he glanced back at her before hustling out the door. 

* * * * *

Kaito was, as promised, waiting on the sidewalk two doors down from the Mouri Detective Agency. He was dressed casually as usual, with a hooded jacket as protection from the potential threat of rain, standing nonchalontly against the building wall with his hands in his pockets and a perfectly bored expression on his face. 

"'Bout time," he commented as Conan came abreast of him, the boredom vanishing as if it never was--replaced by concern the moment he saw the seriousness of the small boy's face. "Ran take it okay?" 

"Well enough," Conan replied shortly with a jerk of a shrug. "She's not happy about it--but then again, this whole thing _still_ doesn't sit all that well with me, either." 

At Conan's rather pointed glance, Kaito had the decency to look slightly abashed. "Yeah...well...it does take some getting used to. Even for me." When his small cousin's face lightened a bare fraction, Kaito offered a brief grin and stood up from his spot agains the wall. "Shall we?" 

"Lead the way." 

The two set off down the sidewalk side-by-side, just at the pace of a child's brisk walk. It was a slow stroll for someone of Kaito's stride, but he knew his cousin would appreciate not having to jog the whole way. 

"How much of a walk is it to your house once we get off the bus?" Conan asked, just out of curiosity, mimicking Kaito's thoughts. 

"Oh, not too far," the youth replied, glancing down at his small companion. "Five minutes or so. Um, maybe more if you're...walking slower." 

Conan cocked an eyebrow at him. "Nice save." 

Kaito gave a short laugh with a flash of grin. "It's a talent. A phantom thief has to be good at talking his way out of corners sometimes." 

The boy's mouth quirked. "Yeah, those tricks you pulled over the radio at the clock tower showed me you're pretty much all talk." 

"Hey!" Kaito adopted a huffy air. "I didn't see _you_ down there busting your butt to catch me all through those back hallways and air vents." 

"Be glad I didn't." Conan was grinning full-force now, enjoying their verbal sparring. 

"Yeah, right," Kaito snorted. _Damn straight,_ he thought ruefully. 

They continued on, laughing and bantering, each wishing to leave the darker subjects for later. The weather held despite the threatening glower of the clouds above, so the shelter of the bus stop's awning was unneccessary. Kaito's knack for timing proved itself once again when the bus rolled noisily into view not two minutes after they arrived. When the long vehicle rumbled to a stop and the doors slid open, Conan was the first to hop forward, grabbing what handholds he could and hauling himself up the high steps. "Good afternoon, Nishimura-san," he chirped to the driver, much more cheerfully than Kaito would have thought possible. 

"Well, hello, Edogawa-kun," the driver replied, smiling down at his young passenger. 

When he spotted his cousin fishing in his pocket, Kaito reached out with a handful of coins. "Don't worry, I've got it covered," he said helpfully--but ended up drawing back when Conan produced the required amount and handed it over. 

"I can pay my own fare," the small boy said almost primly, heading down the aisle to find a seat. 

As he paid his share, Kaito shook his head with an amused smile, faintly exasperated. Nishimura-san caught his look and smiled understandingly. "That's Edogawa-kun for you. Independent little cuss." 

_Man, you don't know the half of it._ Aloud, Kaito only laughed and nodded, following Conan toward the rear of the bus. He plunked down beside his small cousin without hesitation, promptly going into Sprawl Mode as he relaxed into his seat. "So how do you know the driver, 'Edogawa-kun?' Or should I even ask?" 

"I know a lot of drivers," Conan replied absently, staring out the window as the bus ground into motion again. "I take the bus a lot more than I used to now. Most adults think I'm a smart, well-mannered little boy, and that includes bus drivers--I've taken this route before, and Nishimura also runs the one of the Shibuya morning and evening routes on weekends. He has a wife named Shuriko and two kids our age--never caught their names, but they're girls--and he likes playing Go with his neighbor on Friday nights--" 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Kaito put up his hands, eyebrows high. "I just asked how you knew him, not his life story! Sheesh, how do you remember all that stuff about him anyway?" 

This time, Conan turned about to regard him. "I know something about most of the drivers on the Beika routes. Some things I ask, others I overhear, and some I deduce." 

"You must not get bored easy," Kaito muttered. "So you just pick up information on bus drivers as a hobby?" 

"Mm. Cab drivers too sometimes, but they range around quite a bit." His gaze turned inward, contemplative. "I know a lot about the Beika station subway operators. Huh, and most of the bank tellers, shop owners, grocery cashiers, servers in restaruaunts...and I've had a long time to learn things about most of the people living in the Beika area..." He caught Kaito's boggled look. "What's the matter with you? Aren't you the one who memorizes everything about the people you impersonate?" 

Kaito blinked. "Well, yeah. It just...slipped my mind that _you_ can do the same thing." He stared at his cousin a few moments longer, then shook his head and looked away. "We never forget a face, do we...?" 

The rest of the ride continued in relative silence, both wanting to get on with certain topics of conversation but neither of them feeling safe to do so aboard a not-quite-crowded public bus. Their initial little chat had barely skated the edges of imprudent, and anything further would be both too revealing and too out-of-character for a seven-year-old. So Kaito continued to sprawl in the isle-side seat, idly not-watching his small companion, while Conan set his chin in his hand and stared out the window, half-dozing, keeping an ear on his cousin and ignoring Kaito's thoughtful look. 

The bus stopped and started periodically, passengers boarding or disembarking. Conan didn't stir until Kaito poked him lightly in the shoulder as the bus began to slow once more. "Our stop," the youth said simply. 

Conan sat up with a brief stretch, any traces of sleepiness vanishing. Without a word except for a goodbye to Nishimura-san, he followed Kaito out of the bus and onto the sidewalk. 

This part of town reminded him a little of where the Kudo house stood in Beika--much more suburban than Ran's location, with family homes and yards and walls--but this place was by far less wealthy-looking. There were fewer people visible, and houses and lots were smaller, the walls and streets closer and less maintained; garbage collection came perhaps twice a week at most, judging by the cans and bags curbside here. Most of the small homes were limited to one story, and a few squat apartment complexes rose looming over the walls several streets down. It was very much a lower-income area of town, many houses looking tired or even run-down. 

Conan finished his initial observations just in time to spot Kaito heading down the sidewalk. Realizing with some chagrin that he'd been gaping around like a tourist, he scrambled after his cousin with a cry of, "Hey, wait up!" 

Kaito seemed more cheerful here, more eager. "Hurry up! We've got things to do, you know. It'll be time for you to go home before we finish if we're not quick about it." 

"What is it exactly that you're after this time?" Conan asked, slightly breathless, as he drew alongside. "Another big jewel--in a bank, or a museum?" 

"Neither," Kaito replied after glancing cautiously about. "It's being kept in a private safe-storage facility all the way across Tokyo's downtown area. Not as flashy, but some of what I read sounds real tempting." 

"Emerald or amethyst?" 

Kaito cocked an eyebrow at him. "Uh, amethyst, actually. How did you...?" 

"Your record tells me you like big gems, the more opaque the better, though you don't seem to go for the completely solid stones," Conan responded with a faint shrug. "It was just a guess." 

"Damn good one," Kaito snorted. 

"Where's your house from here?" the boy asked after a beat, peering up the street. 

"Two more blocks down, hang a left, and go straight 'til we get to my gate," Kaito replied brightly. "Past those bigger buildings there--the turn's just by where they're putting in a new apartment." 

"Great. So there's going to be construction noise while I'm trying to think." 

"Naw...my place is far enough away from it. We don't really notice." Kaito glanced at the sky, frowned when he couldn't see the sun, and shrugged. "Besides, I think it's almost five-thirty. The workers should be wrapping up for the night." 

Conan took the opportunity to look at his own watch. "Five twenty-seven, to be exact. And I have to be home by nine, or Ran will worry and 'Conan' will get in trouble." 

"Yeah, can't forget your bedtime, can we?" Kaito grinned unashamedly. "Guess I can't ask for your help on any actual heists. Most of my jobs don't start 'till after dark; this time of year it's not 'til well after you're in beddy-bye." 

The boy shot him a disgusted look. "I snuck out to meet you at the Haido City Hotel roof, didn't I?" 

"Point," Kaito acknowledged. "But I bet you were in it deep when Inspector Nakamori had you driven back home in a squadcar. I'm sure Ran and Mouri-san just _loved_ that." 

Conan grumbled something highly annoyed and quite uncomplimentary, mostly regarding how that was all Kid's fault anyway for bringing the cops there in the first place. Kaito merely grinned at him and tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, looking perfectly blameless. 

The work site was actually pretty quiet; the whirr of machinery seemed largely confined to a few pieces of equipent in one area of the yard--impossible to tell exactly by the tall wooden fence--and there were the tired voices of men shouting back and forth to each other about shutting things down, clocking out for the day, and the promise of home and warm suppers. There were even a few men wearing yellow hardhats and carrying black lunchboxes--laughably classic construction workers just through with their long day--walking down the sidewalk. Kaito and Conan continued along the fence, turning the corner past the site and heading down that street. 

"I can't believe how many times I got in trouble because of you," Conan huffed, having quite enough of Kaito's innocent whistling. "When I was chasing you through Osaka on my skateboard and you got yourself shot out of the sky, I had to explain to Ran what I was doing racing through the streets and almost getting run over on a motorcycle with Hattori. Again, _your_ fault." 

Kaito cocked an eyebrow slyly. "And who wouldn't have gotten in a wreck if he hadn't been following me? It's not like I was gonna sell the Memories Egg or nothing--just give it back to its rightful owner. I'd'a thought a smart guy like you would've figured it out sooner that I--" 

There was a heavy _crash_ in the construction yard that made Conan jump visibly and Kaito startle to a halt, both glancing at the fence as if they could peer through it. With a mutual shrug, they continued on. 

"Anyway, how was I supposed to know that?" Conan retorted at length. "I was trying to _catch_ you, idiot. Besides, why do _you_ get to decide who owns that egg? Suzuki-san _bought_ it, fair and square." 

Kaito hunched his shoulders in an odd shrug that stuck. "Just thought Natsumi-san should have her pictures, that's all..." 

"_Oh my God!_ Somebody fell off the scaffold!" 

His voice faded out when the shouting began. Men's voices--angry, frightened, shocked--rose loud and clear over the fence. The workers on the sidewalk turned at the sounds and ran back to the gate they had just so recently left, filling the air with questions and concern as they gathered. 

"_Who is it?_" 

"What the hell happened up there?" 

"Did anyone see it?" 

"Who fell? Was it Shimizu?" 

The cacopnony of shouts made everything clear: A man had fallen from the building in the site. By the sound of things, it was bad. 

Conan's sharp-eyed frown was not missed by his taller companion; Kaito saw the sudden _alertness_ in his diminutive cousin's gaze and gulped, realizing what it could mean. Two pairs of dark blue eyes met suddenly, one filled with questions and the other with significance. As one, without a word, they both ran for the gate. 

No one had opened the chain-link portal into the wood-fenced enclosure of the yard, so the crowded workers had all pressed themselves against it trying to see within. Kaito could barely see past the yellow-capped heads and the structures within--but he could make out the figures of running men, could hear too well the cries of despair from those who were approaching the place where the unnamed person had fallen. 

"What happened?" he asked of no one in particular, hardly expecting an answer; everyone else was too preoccupied. Unsure, he glanced down for his small cousin--and spotted him jockeying for position in the milling group, trying to peek between the legs of the workers without getting stepped on. 

"What's going on in there?" Conan finally demanded, glaring up at Kaito. It wasn't anger at his cousin that heated his voice, but frustration that he couldn't see what was taking place. 

"They're all heading for him--the guy that fell," Kaito reported, standing on tiptoe. "I dunno how far he fell or even if he made it." 

As Kaito watched, Conan's gritted teeth gave silent voice to his annoyance with the crowd as he stared at the backs of jean-clad legs as if he could somehow gaze _through_ them. "_Dammit_..." the boy spat. 

Kaito gulped once again, realizing that what he was suddenly considering might get him serious reparitions. But he ignored the warnings his brain was sending and went with his gut instinct--the one that said Shinichi needed to see this. "Here, just...hang on..." 

With only a moment's hesitation, he gripped Conan awkwardly beneath the arms and hoisted him into the air--wincing apologetically at the boy's startled, indignant squawk--setting him on his own shoulders to give him the altitude he needed to peer over the heads of the men. 

For a brief flash, the fallen man was the _last_ thing on their minds. Conan teetered for a second, too surprised to find his balance, throwing his arms around Kaito's head for a panicky moment of vertigo at the sudden change in height. Kaito held on to him to be sure he wouldn't fall off and brain himself on the sidewalk, trying to adjust his own equilibrium to Conan's unfamiliar weight and hoping he didn't get a shoe in the face. Once the initial scramble was out of the way and their composures somewhat restored, the boy's small body went tense with ire, hands tightening in Kaito's hair. 

"Baka--what are you _doing?_" Conan hissed, his volume only checked by the presence of the crowd.. "Put me _down!_ I _told_ you--!" 

"You want to see, right?" Kaito shot back sharply, equally exasperated--especially with his cousin's grip on his hair. "So shut up and _look_. You can kick me _later_." 

Conan scowled, but relaxed slightly and straightened up to scan what he could see of the construction yard from his new vantage point. Through the joists and beams of the incomplete structure, he could just make out the arm of a man poking out of what might have been a pile of broken crates--it looked as though he had not had a clean fall, landing on piles of debris or equipment. There were many people gathered around the fallen form, moving in and out of visibility behind portions of the building--but it didn't look like the man was moving. If he was dead... 

In an instant, his mind processed what he saw and began to spin out results--and most especially, a certain relevant fact. "Construction employees working on higher levels are required to wear safety gear," he whispered; blue eyes narrowed sharply behind glass lenses, becoming suspicious. 

"What?" 

Kaito's voice abruptly reminded him of his companion--and current stepstool--below. Frowning still, Conan spoke to the older boy but never took his eyes off the scene. "Anybody working on the upper levels of a site is supposed to wear a harness to _prevent_ this sort of thing. Either this guy was careless, or..." 

"You think somebody _pushed_ him?" Kaito asked, incredulous, his voice taking on a weakening scolding tone that sorely lacked conviction. "C'mon, not everything's a murder--don't be so paranoid..." 

"I think it's worse than that," the boy continued, little more than a whisper--one that Kaito could still hear clearly even through the din of voices. "Did you hear a scream?" 

"Huh?" 

"When he hit the ground--that crash we heard--did you hear any scream?" 

Kaito paused, thinking for a moment. "No...I didn't. It was quiet." 

"Exactly." Conan's expression was hard and set, yet almost eager, as the piercing mind behind behind the face of a child began to work in earnest. "Corpses don't scream as they fall." 

"He was...already...?" Kaito swallowed hard yet again. 

"Perhaps." Conan spoke softly, betraying little emotion. "Either way, we'd still have to call the police. That man is dead." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _Well, here it goes! The mystery has begun. The only downside to this is that the next chapter is going to come slow and careful as I work this whole thing out properly. Thanks everyone for your great patience!_


	21. Transposition

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 21: Transposition**

As if to mourn the fallen dead, the cloudy sky had opened up into a gray, dismal drizzle of raindrops. Not quite enough fell to be considered _rain_, but the small drops were persistant, continuing to splatter onto concrete, gravel, and mud, dampening both the clothes and the spirits of anyone who stood out in it. 

Keeping a safe distance, hood pulled up against the thin shower, Kaito observed the tense gathering around the gruesomely dead body. Conan, his coat not posessing any sort of hood, stood on the leeward side of his taller cousin, tucked in rather close to him for what protection that would afford. Red and blue lights reflected in the lenses of his glasses, their flashing dimmed by the grayness of the sky and the tragedy that had called them here. 

Kaito watched the police move with practiced efficiency around the corpse, noting that their faces were far grimmer and less animated than most he'd ever seen. Then again, when he dealt with cops they were usually flushed, sweating, and swearing vociferously as they chased him around in the dark. Death never hung over his heists. 

During the chaos that had ensued the moment someone got the site's main gate open, Conan had demanded to be let down from Kaito's shoulders and began shouting commands to him--_ordering_ him to get a rein on these people, calm them down and keep them away from the body while the boy ran around the corner to find a telephone. He was already a little off-kilter himself at the horrible event--a man had just _died,_ right _there_--and Conan's sharp, shrill voice had cut through the shock and jolted him into action. He hadn't even thought to question. 

He was no policeman, just a teenage kid--and right now, not even _the_ Kid. But controlling crowds was something a magician _did,_ whether on a stage or in a group, so control them he would. He surged into the site after the panicked workers, marshalling his voice for volume and authority--and did the very best Shinichi Kudo impression he could muster under the circumstances. 

He was pretty damn proud of himself for that bit of work, all things considered. He pulled off Shinichi's cool confidence and aura of command excellently, his calm, sharp voice barking out a repeat of the orders Conan had given him. The frightened men--and a few women, as well--listened to him, having no other source of stability during this tragedy. Once everyone was gathered, well clear of the corpse, the rain had begun to fall; Kaito kept his eyes open and his act up until Conan reappeared--much to his great relief--to tell him what to do next. 

Conan told him they would wait. Until the police arrived, they could do nothing, and no one should leave the scene. 

Well, now the police were there, and Kaito wanted to scram. _Now_. Perhaps it was because of his night job, but cops made him _nervous_. Especially with Conan back in full Detective Mode and a dead body not six meters away. Corpses gave him the shivers too. 

And death just upset him. Death was something he couldn't control, couldn't trick, couldn't undo, couldn't _stop_. Death took people's lives away, and not even a phantom thief could steal them back. At times like this, he could understand why Shinichi was so passionate about his work. No one should be able to get away with a thing like murder. 

But that _still_ didn't mean he enjoyed hanging around dead bodies, nervous cops, and bewildered witnesses. He'd leave the crook-catching to his cousin, thank you very much. 

_Speaking of cousins..._ Kaito eyed the antsy boy beside him warily, easily recognizing the keen stare and focused expression. _Somebody's going to pop if he doesn't get to go investigate._ "Um, look," he ventured cautiously. "You know cops and I don't get along so well, so...why don't I slip outta here while you--?" 

Conan's piercing blue eyes snapped up to him so quickly and so sharply that Kaito swallowed his own words in a gulp, blinking in surprise. "You can't leave," the small boy said, voice just quiet enough not to carry. "This is a _homicide_, baka--we can't just walk out of here, we're witnesses." 

"We didn't even _see_ it!" Kaito complained. "And none of those idiots think it's a murder, so--" 

"Even so, it's still a murder--and once they find that out, we're also suspects," Conan went on with a wry smile at Kaito's sudden freeze. "The instant we walked in here, we became part of this. Get used to it. With any luck, you'll just get interviewed by a uniform, and they'll send you on your--" 

"Hah! There you are!" 

Kaito's startled yelp derailed the conversation when a large hand fell on his shoulder, making him jump around like a scalded cat. The hand was accompanied by a yellow trenchcoat sleeve--which was attached to a yellow trenchcoat, of course, and worn by a rather portly man with a thick black moustache. 

"Inspector Megure!" Conan blurted, almost as surprised as his cousin to see the man there. He would have thought this area beyond the reach of Megure's jurisdiction. 

But the trenchcoated inspector completely ignored the little boy at his feet, instead vigorously patting the shoulders of the teen in front of him, grinning enormously. "If it isn't Kudo-kun! Where on earth have you been for so long? I haven't seen you in _ages!_ And wouldn't you know it--I can depend on a situation like this to bring you running...!" 

Kaito had such an utterly astonished look on his face that Conan would have burst out laughing--if it weren't for the fact that he himself was equally boggled. 

"K-K-K-Kudo--m-_me--?_" Kaito stared blankly at the Inspector, completely bowled over by the enormity of the mistake, as the older man chattered cheerfully on. 

"...and I almost didn't recognize you, standing over here in the rain with your hood on. Good thing I spotted Conan-kun, or I might've missed you..." Megure paused, taking in the dumbstruck boys. "What's the matter with you two?" 

Kaito blinked for a moment more, the question finally knocking him out of his astonished daze. He drew himself up, coughed once to clear his throat, and fixed Megure with a level gaze and a pleasant smile. "Nothing's wrong, Inspector. I'm just a little surprised to see you in this part of town." 

Conan's head jerked up, once more staring in shock--but this time it was at his cousin's abrupt transformation from startled teenager to accomplished performer. Though his volume didn't change, Kaito's voice softened noticeably, coming up a bit in pitch, his diction and grammar becoming precise and definite. His usual rough, sloppy speech and cheerfully careless personality was instantly replaced by Shinichi Kudo's calm, smooth tones and confident, unwavering composure. 

"This isn't quite outside of my jurisdiction," Megure confessed, "and the man who'd usually handle it is out of town this week, so I thought I might as well come. Especially since the operator informed us she'd gotten a call from a little boy." He smiled down at Conan, who did his best to look innocent. 

"So then, Inspector," Kaito went on, his "mask" completely perfect, "what have your men found so far?" 

Megure cleared his throat and produced his police notebook. "Let's see....the deceased is one Noboru Otomo, age thirty-two, and a worker here at this site. Seems he fell from quite a height, and his safety rope snapped. The fall was what killed him, as you can see..." 

"I don't think so," Kaito interjected. "You see, Conan-kun and I were walking outside the fence at the time the man fell, and we didn't hear a sound except for the crash when he hit the ground. Isn't that right, Conan?" 

"Huh?" The boy blinked at his cousin, then caught on, dropping into "Conan" with practiced ease. "Yup, that's right! I didn't hear anything either." 

Megure looked briefly puzzled. "What were you supposed to hear?" 

Kaito barely glanced down at Conan once more. "A scream, Inspector. I should think a man falling to his death from such a height would scream on the way down--wouldn't you? I may be wrong, but I think Otomo-san may have already been dead when he fell off the scaffolding." 

"I see!" The Inspector had already gone wide-eyed. "That means someone had to have...!" 

"_Possibly_, Inspector. Again, I could be wrong. I'd have to investigate more thoroughly to be sure." Kaito didn't even twitch--didn't show a single iota of hesitation, nothing out of character. His acting was _flawless_. 

_Do I really sound like that?_ Conan had to wonder once again, staring up at this remarkable transformation. Even without makeup and masks, just this change in manner had made it seem as though it really _was_ Shinichi standing there--cool, unruffled, almost imposing, his keen blue gaze startling in its intelligence and intensity... _Is that really how I am--how people see me from the outside?_

"I understand," Megure replied, his fingers going thoughtfully to his chin. "I'll have the men question the witnesses for their alibis in case this is murder...in the meantime, feel free to have a look--I'd appreciate your help on this one if that does turn out to be the case." The Inspector wandered back toward the huddle of damp officers and worried-looking workers, already calling out to his lieutenants. 

There was a deep sigh that made Conan look up--and suddenly the youth standing next to him was Kaito again, looking somewhat troubled. "That was..." the boy tried to say. "That was so...completely..." 

"Completely _stupid_," Kaito finished for him, eyes fixed on the gaggle of people across from them. "I just stuck my neck in a noose. I'm no detective, dammit--I can't believe I just walked into that! But I had to pretend to be _you_--" 

"You didn't have to," Conan interjected quietly. "You could have just said..." 

"What, that I'm Kudo's cousin? Yeah, explain _that_." Kaito snorted derisively. "No thanks. I'd rather be anonymous and let _you_ take the heat for this. Inspector Megure knows by now not to use your name, right?" 

Conan nodded, quickly realizing why Kaito would rather appear as Shinichi. "But he doesn't know not to use yours--and two near-identical high school detective cousins would be suspicious if any of _them_ found out..." 

"Exactly." Kaito offered a weak but game smile. "Which is why I'm gonna hafta grit my teeth and live through this." 

"It's not _that_ hard," Conan said, his brows drawing down. "But listen carefully--you have to do as I say. Remember the rules? Don't do anything unless I tell you--we can do this, but we have to do it _right_." 

The teen sighed and shrugged. "I can do Shinichi Kudo, but I can't do the high school detective." 

"Never thought I'd see _you_ nervous about a performance," Conan said wryly, offering an encouraging grin. "Don't worry, I'll be right beside you. Conan Edogawa, your humble apprentice-in-training and future high school detective. Just so long as no one knows it's _me_ teaching _you_." 

Kaito rolled his eyes. "Great. Well, c'mon squirt, let's get this flying circus off the ground." 

Conan grinned, increasingly cheerful, as he followed Kaito toward the scene. "It's not so bad, you know. It's actually fun! I'll show you--come on, hurry up--" He practically bounced at Kaito's heels, a scant inch away from grabbing his reluctant cousin by the hand and dragging him along faster. He hadn't had a murder to solve in what seemed like forever, and it felt _good_ to be diving into another investigation. 

This was something he could _do_. It wasn't dark, intangible depression or the pain of raw emotions; it wasn't mired in family problems and hurtful partings. This was his place, his element; this was where he _belonged_--at the scene of a homicide, just minutes away from uncovering the killer and seeing justice done. 

Inspector Megure was already organizing his men and sorting out witnesses; now it was their turn. As they came to the site of the might-be murder, in the shadow of the unfinished building, both Kaito and Shinichi donned their masks and set their shoulders. 

They were ready--it was _Showtime_. 

Apparently Megure had warned his men well; they stepped back from the young man as he approached the body, looking oddly respectful and not offering the slightest hindrance as Kaito and his small companion stopped next to the dead man. 

The body had leaked a lot of blood, split open due to its rough landing on the crates and pallets--an impact so strong that it had produced the loud crash heard all around the lot. Limbs bent at odd angles, and here and there glistened a pale white tip of bone. The face, cheek-down on a slat of wood, was crushed sideways in a ghastly manner. 

_Ooooh boy..._ Feeling suddenly queasy, Kaito closed his eyes for a moment, swallowed hard _once_--then went on with the show. Glad that most of the busy cops didn't pay them much mind beyond a few glances, he squatted next to Conan, who was already leaning over the corpse with an analytical eye. "So..." he whispered, trying not to look in the direction of the body's mangled face. "What have you got?" 

Behind Conan's eyes, the mind of Shinichi Kudo was already spinning out facts. "He fell down through the middle of the structure, for one thing--which means it _could_ be just a mishap, since it's almost impossible to fall from the outside because of the sheeting around the bulding's frame. But he's also face-down...most of the time, the only way people come off buildings like this is _backwards_--you know, stepping off scaffolding by accident. And he _is_ wearing a harness--look." He gestured to the nylon web safety harness still buckled around the legs and torso. 

"I'd rather do as little _looking_ as possible," Kaito replied, keeping his voice low so that the subject matter of this conversation would stay between them. "But yeah...I see it. Look, there's the end of his rope--it's broken. But...that's gotta be at least two hundred kilo test--" 

"Exactly," Conan replied, scooting around to look at the trailing end of the rope that had once secured the victim's harness. "That's weird. A nylon web line like this doesn't just snap from one man's weight, and the end's not frayed like it would be if it was cut. And the rope wasn't _burned_ off either, or it would be melted." 

"It looks sort of...sizzled," Kaito commented, quirking an eyebrow. 

"Yeah. I can't figure it out..." The look on his face showed that the boy was distinctly unhappy about that fact. 

"We need to get up there where he was working and check it out," the youth stated, rising once again, as Conan glanced at him in surprise--his cousin had taken the words right out of his mouth. "Hey, Inspector! Just a second of your time..." 

Incredulous, Conan stared after him as he donned his Shinichi persona to speak quickly and succinctly to Megure, getting permission for them to head up to the work area. As Kaito discussed the matter with the Inspector--who still hadn't a clue who he was really talking to--Conan frowned and stood up to look over the body one more time. 

His sharp eyes checked every inch, never letting one detail go to waste. Anything, no matter how inconsequential, could be evidence. Besides the corpse falling face-down and the fact that the rope was not cut or burned, there were numerous tiny, almost unnoticeable holes in the victim's clothing on his back. There was also blood on the back of his head, Conan noted as he stepped around, and that blood had dripped in an odd direction--toward his face, instead of the ground... 

_Wait, that's it--what if he--?_ "Ka--um, Shinichi-niichan!" he called quickly, whirling about. 

Kaito was already on his way back, looking a bit proud of himself. "What's the matter? Megure says we can go up--" 

"I think someone rigged him to stay up there for a while before he fell," Conan interrupted, his voice a low hiss that wouldn't carry. "The blood on his head must be from the blow that killed him!" 

"Are you sure?" Kaito asked, glancing at the body. "He's bloody all over, from what I can see." 

"No--baka! The blood on his head is older," Conan snapped out quickly, with a quick gesture at his cousin. "Get down here--we've gotta check for rigor mortis." 

Kaito instantly balked. "We _what?_ Oh _hell_ no--" 

"Shut up," Conan hissed. "There's people watching! I'm not asking _you_ to do it--just get down here and cover me while _I_ do." 

With a gulp, Kaito squatted near Conan's position, effectively blocking the line of sight from Megure and most of the officers. He tried to look industrious and unaffected, but most of that failed when Conan reached down without an ounce of hesitation, and with absolute indifference picked up one of the hands of the deceased and began testing the fingers for stiffness. "Urgh..." 

Setting the lifeless limb back down--and hoping nobody saw who was doing the fiddling--Conan glanced up at his partner's rather pale face. "Sissy." 

"Shut up," Kaito growled, barely suppressing his shudder. This was _not_ something he dealt with on a regular basis--nor was it something he really _wanted_ to. 

"Just think about finding the bastard who did this," the boy replied in a low, utterly serious voice that made Kaito's nauseous scowl vanish in a trice. "Get sick later--you've got to concentrate _now_." 

"I _am_," Kaito shot back, swallowing most of his unease and turning his attention back to the task at hand. "What did you find out?" 

"I'm not sure," the boy replied. "From the time of the fall and how long it took the police to get here...I dunno. He seems a bit cold, but he's not _too_ stiff--and rigor mortis varies from body to body due to diet, metabolism, or other circumstances. He could have died anywhere from thirty minutes ago--the fall--up to about two hours ago." 

"That sure tells us a lot," Kaito grumbled. "You had to go and do something _that_ gross just to..." 

"Oh hush," Conan retorted. "It's part of the procedure. Now we need to get up there to the place he fell from and see if we can find anything." He grabbed his cousin by the hand, much to Kaito's surprise, hauling him to his feet and toward the lift at the other end of the half-constructed building. "Hurry up, would you?" 

"Sheesh, don't get your bowtie in a twist!" Kaito growled, shaking off the boy's hand. "I'm going already." 

They rode the lift up to the topmost floor, Conan tapping his foot impatiently at the creaky, cage-sided elevator's slow ascent. Kaito watched him with brows high; once again, Shinichi Kudo was champing at the bit to solve another case. 

When they reached the top and the doors were slid back, Conan pelted out--only to be snagged by the scruff and jerked to a stop. "Hey, let go!" 

"Idiot, do you wanna end up like that guy on the ground?" Kaito snorted. "Stop and look for once. There's no _floor_ up here." 

The boy blinked, then turned to the place he'd intended to run. There was no flooring, only structual beams and conveniently-placed scaffolding suspended many meters in the air. True floor didn't even begin to exist until way down on the second story, and then only partially. He gulped, realizing he might have gone tearing out there only to trip and go _splat_--quite literally. 

"This is more like it--my kind of territory," Kaito commented with a rather pleased look, releasing him. "Stick close, squirt, and watch your step." 

Letting his cousin go first, Conan grumbled something about not needing anybody's help to walk, thankyouverymuch. Scowling, he followed the youth out onto the plywood ramp of the first scaffold, keeping an eye out for slippery spots from the rain. Kaito walked with breezy steps, without a care in the world, and Conan had to hurry to keep up. 

It was a bit of a maze to reach the place where the man had apparently fallen from; they'd had to navigate several different platforms and even the building beams themselves. "Here we are!" Kaito announced cheerfully, as if he'd just led a group of tourists to a picnic spot. "Okay, what're we looking for?" 

"Anything unusual," Conan replied, already beginning to scan the place--a rather obscured location, blocked by a lot of equipment and half-made walls of pipes and electrical work. "Anything that doesn't belong--or anything that _should_ be here and _isn't_. And not just here, but anywhere around here--anywhere on this floor, even." 

Kaito's brows went up again. "That's a pretty tall order." 

"Too tall for you?" Conan challenged with a rather dark grin. 

"Watch it, small fry." Kaito matched the grin with his own. "Betcha I can get this one before you." 

"Don't you start that--Hattori's bad enough," Conan grumbled. "Just find what you can. I'll look around here." 

"Roger that." The young thief sauntered off, apparently oblivious to the sheer drop immediately to either side. 

Conan rolled his eyes and got back to the task at hand. "Okay, here's the other end of his rope..." He watched the dangling end hanging over empty space, the tip of it sporting that same sizzled look as the one on the ground. 

_And if he was killed around here, there has to be blood, or proof that someone wiped away the blood. Even in this drizzle, it won't just wash away._ Keen eyes catching every detail around him, the boy began to move along the beams and scaffolding surrounding the place where the man had fallen. There was nothing in the immediate area, so he began to hurry around the narrow walkways in an ever-increasing radius, searching for any clues. Quite a lot of time passed, but he hardly noticed, absorbed in the case. 

It wasn't until he found the faint smudges of wiped-up blood on a beam a great distance from Otomo's point of fall that it crashed into his mind to check the rag-bins he'd seen at the elevator. It would be far too easy to hide a dark, bloodstained cloth amongst hundreds of other greasy, dirty rags. 

Conan went sprinting back along the rain-slick catwalks and beams at top speed, leaping some gaps he didn't want to bother going around, skidding in to a stop at the plywood platform that formed the elevator bay. Without pausing, he hiked himself up on the side of the rag bin and began to shovel through it, tossing unwanted specimens aside. 

"Gosh, what got into you?" 

Kaito's voice startled him almost to the point of tipping headfirst into the box--he'd almost completely forgotten his cousin was still there. "I think it's in here," he replied quickly, regaining his balance and resuming his search. "The rag the murderer used..." 

"Ah..." Kaito didn't think he had to ask why his small cousin had gone tearing across the building like that--he'd been a bit startled to hear the boy going full-speed through the obstacle course of narrow, suspended paths with the same careless agility that he prided himself on. "Then...I suppose you don't want these gloves." 

"Gloves?" With a light _thud_, Conan dropped off the bin and whirled to him. "What did you find?" 

With a smug grin, Kaito held up the pair of gloves he'd found, gripping them by the corners so he didn't mar any more evidence than necessary. "These. Somebody's old abandoned work gloves--with all these drops of blood on them..." 

"Baka! Put them down! Don't touch them!" Conan leaped at him, waving his small hands. "Be more careful! Wrap them in your handkerchief or something!" 

"Sheesh...!" A bit disgruntled at the welcome he'd received, Kaito crouched next to Conan, who produced his own handkerchief to rest the gloves on. Kaito put them down on the clean white cloth, watching the boy scrutinize them. 

"This could be the most important thing yet!" Conan informed him, a definite glee tingeing his tones. "Where did you find them?" 

"Down there." Kaito gestured to the floor below. "Looks like somebody tossed them off and they landed on a pile of wall frames." 

Conan stopped to blink at him. "Do _not_ tell me you were clambering around the scaffolding down there." 

"Okay, I won't _tell_ you I was..." 

"You overgrown monkey." The phony gradeschooler shook his head with an ironic half-smile. "No wonder you give flat-footed cops the slip." 

"Why, thank you." Kaito grinned, and failed to mention that Conan had been doing a lateral version of the same thing just minutes ago. "What were you trying to find in the box?" 

"I found what might be the murder site," Conan replied. "Way over there--and our man apparently chose a place with a metal surface so that it would be easier to clean up." His expression turned to a small, almost predatory smile. "But blood's _hard_ to clean up, if you give it even the slightest chance to dry out--even in this rain. If I had Luminol, I could make it even more visible--we have to send a policeman up to check it out." 

"What's that got to do with the--? Oh..." Kaito felt like smacking himself in the forehead. "He must've wiped it up and thrown the rag in there with all the rest." 

"Bingo!" Conan _just_ kept himself from sniggering at the _duh!_ look Kaito was suddenly sporting. "Help me find it--do you know what it will look like?" 

"I can take a pretty good guess," Kaito replied, digging into the box right beside his small cousin. 

It was silent but for the patter of rain on the canvas tarp roof above the elevator area, the two boys keeping quiet except for murmured questions and comments pertaining to their hunt. It took a few minutes, carefully searching, scrutinizing a few likely candidates before discarding them as false alarms. There was a fairly sizeable pile of rags strewn about their feet by the time they found what they were looking for. Grinning, the two held the corners of a large, torn, brown-stained towel that might once have been beige. 

"Yes!" Conan crowed, as he and Kaito gingerly set this new piece of evidence down beside the gloves. 

"We've got the towel and the gloves," Kaito listed, ticking them off on his fingers. "And we've got the location of the murder plus the fact that we already knew he was dead before he hit the ground, and that means..." He paused, scratching his head. "Uh...hell if I know what that means..." 

"Use your brain, baka," Conan laughed, half in amusement and half just for the sheer euphoria of unfolding the case. "Otomo-san was killed, probably by blunt cranial trauma, on the other side of the building, carried over _there_--" He pointed to the fall site. "--and somehow rigged to fall without the rope being cut or burned. This towel was used to wipe up the blood at the site, and these bloodstained gloves were dropped off a scaffold to hide any evidence." 

Kaito raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't it have been smarter to throw the gloves into the rag bins and hide them there?" 

"Maybe," Conan admitted, "but it might be less suspicious to find someone's discarded gloves lying about the worksite, especially with drops of blood on them. And with these holes in the gloves, someone might just assume the blood came from whoever was wearing them, who might have injured their hands. But the blood isn't from the places on the gloves where there are all these holes... The trick is to use what we've got here to figure out who might have been able to do this." 

"I might be going out on a limb here," Kaito began softly, looking supremely thoughtful. "But...I think it's logical to assume the killer's one of the people on the ground right now--someone who works at this construction site. Just speaking for myself, if I was gonna go to all the trouble of rigging someone to fall _after_ he's dead, I'd want to make sure I was seen _during_ his fall by lots of my friends and coworkers so I'd have a good tight alibi." 

"That's a _good_ thought," Conan reassured him with a grin. "I was thinking the same thing." 

Kaito actually brightened. "Really?" 

"Really!" The boy paused for a moment to regard his cousin. "Huh, whaddya know--you've actually got a knack for this. Not everyone could spot those gloves or come to those conclusions." 

"Do _not_ tell me I could be a detective on my weekends." 

Conan's mouth quirked. "You told _me_ I could be a phantom thief." 

"Touche..." 

"But...even with all this," Conan went on, returning to the subject at hand, "that _still_ leaves us with no real evidence. Sure, with this we can prove it's a murder, but if we go down there unprepared we'll just get someone in trouble who might not be our culprit." 

"I've seen that happen," Kaito acknowledged, going from a crouch to a cross-legged sit with a small _plop_. "What do you need?" 

"Evidence," the small boy sighed, unconsciously mimicking his cousin's actions. "I've got to be able to connect these pieces of evidence to a person--and I have to be able to prove it without doubt. No guessing, no conjecture. I have to _know_." 

"How can we be sure this time?" Kaito asked. "It's got me boggled. There's gotta be fifty people working at this site, and even when Otomo fell--and even _before_ then--there had to be a couple dozen men running around on the ground." 

"True..." Conan frowned, staring from gloves to towel and back again. "And my cases don't usually seem to go quite like this. Say what you like about murders following me around--" 

"They say trouble goes where there's people who can fix it," Kaito murmured helpfully. 

Conan shot him a look and cleared his throat loudly. "--but I always seem to be able to get a look at what's going on beforehand, who's doing what and where--even what kind of people they are. In this case, I haven't talked to a single person, and all I've got is what's in front of me." 

Kaito frowned. "_That_ sounds familiar..." 

"But that's not to say I can't do it..." The boy leaned forward to peer at the gloves. "Something's bugging me about these holes. They don't look like normal wear-and-tear." 

Kaito resisted the temptation to pick up one of the gloves to examine it, instead following his cousin's example and leaning over to look. The two dark heads nearly touched, the damp, tousled bangs brushing against each other. "It's almost random," the larger of the two commented thoughtfully. "And it kinda has that same sizzled look--" 

"Gosh, you're right!" Conan jolted, coming within a hair of bumping foreheads with his cousin. "I didn't notice because the materials are different, but it's got the same weird edge to it!" 

Kaito met the boy's eyes as they sat back. "What do you think it means? Whatever cut the rope cut the gloves too?" 

"But this isn't a _cut_..." Conan stated, staring down at the gloves again, growing oddly, unchildishly _still_, as if he'd suddenly withdrawn; his hand had gone to his chin, fingers set in a distinct L-shape that traced his jawline--and his eyes narrowed, taking on that pensive, contemplative edge that Kaito recognized all too well. 

The mind of Shinichi Kudo had begun to _work_, poring through reams of information at hundreds of "pages" per second--file after mental file of raw data. Past experience, scientific knowledge, logical deduction, police forensics--and far beyond; not one fact unturned, no correlation unexplored. Realms of information the likes of which even Kaito had never studied--and the sheer amount of which he would likely never be able to fully accumulate--were sifted, sorted, chosen, and discarded in mere instants. Relevant facts were tallied, likely scenarios created, most probable concepts were noted...continuing until a short list of most likely conclusions was formulated--and out of which, a single answer could be drawn. 

Kaito remained unmoving, watching the unseen flash by in rapid streams behind his small cousin's distant, almost unseeing eyes. He stayed absolutely silent, to let the boy's mind do its work without interruption--trying not to shudder in rememberance of all the times that too-sharp brain was turned _against_ him. He knew his own intelligence was equal to Shinichi's own--but for sheer volume of data and experience in regards to this particular situation, he knew he couldn't compare. Clock Tower notwithstanding--that hadn't been too serious of a heist in his opinion, and Shinichi hadn't really come in prepared--a one-on-one between the two of them would have been _frightening_. 

_And thrilling, too,_ he caught himself thinking. _The Clock Tower was a warmup--Queen Elizabeth and all those other times were just a taste...and if he **hadn't** been Conan...what would the real thing be like?_

Kaito sensed a change in his companion, focusing on the small form once more as the boy's eyes _sharpened_ again, directed at the gloves. "Got anything?" he asked quietly. 

"Only one answer seems to work," Conan replied. "The gloves and the rope weren't cut or burned, and the only other way I know of to get through something like this is by using _acid_." 

"Acid?" The teen thief blinked. "Holy cow, you're right! That would explain why it looks sizzled without looking burned--!" 

"And it _also_ explains the small holes I saw on the victim's clothes around his back," Conan interjected, looking up at his cousin again. "These gloves were not only worn to kill Otomo-san, but to hang him up and rig the trick as well. Drops of acid from what was being poured on the rope got onto the gloves _and_ the back of the victim's shirt. The drops ate through those materials just like the acid ate through the rope--and dropped Otomo-san after the murderer left the scene." 

"That's it right there, isn't it?" Kaito breathed. "A way to make yourself a time-delay 'tragic fall'--and then you've got a perfect alibi." 

"Unless someone notices," Conan said, looking up at him with a small, tight grin. "Like _us_. Most people wouldn't--but our murderer was just unlucky enough you happened to invite me over today." 

Kaito snorted in amusement. "You have the damndest luck, you know that? I bet you were just _dying_ for a mystery." 

"I don't look forward to people getting killed--" 

"But you'll sure as hell step in and take the case when they _do_," the teen interjected with a humorous grin. "Anyway, now that we've got the method, what do we do? I still don't see how we can figure out _who_ did it." 

"That's the really tricky part," Conan admitted. "We've got two items--towel and gloves--in two different places, an acid-melted rope, and we're still missing a murder weapon. A hammer, a pipe, a bar--anything heavy like that..." 

"I don't think anybody would carry _that_ around with them," Kaito mused aloud. "I mean, they killed someone with it. Who'd want to keep something like that, especially with cops around?" 

"You'd be surprised," the small boy replied, leaning back from the gloves to regard Kaito. "A lot of murderers don't ditch the weapon because they're afraid someone will find it. With this rag here and the gloves thrown below...and if the container the acid was in happened to be glass, it could be shattered anywhere...it's almost like our man was trying to scatter the evidence, instead of hiding it all in one place--where it could all easily be found and connected." 

"But that means _somebody_ ditched their gloves," Kaito observed with a thoughtful glance at the physical evidence in front of them. His eyes grew slightly distant as well, sifting through a well of laser-keen memory that backtracked itself clear to his first steps into the construction site. "Everybody who came back in with us _wasn't_ wearing gloves, but all the men who were in the site to begin with were wearing both gloves and hardhats." 

Conan blinked, his gaze jerking up to his cousin in a flash, surprised; he listened intently, his own mental video footage going over many of the same sequences, equally sharp, yet his focus had been on different things at the time. Kaito's line of reasoning began to highlight what he'd missed before. 

"The only people within the site from the beginning who _weren't_ wearing gloves," Kaito went on, half-absently, "were the ladies working at the station by the gate--in charge of time cards or something I guess--and the guys lined up to sign out, and I saw only one guy near the back end of the line who was still wearing his gloves. When everyone was running around the body, they all mingled so by the time the police got here, the gloves and no gloves bunches got mixed up." 

"But we couldn't tell just by the gloves," Conan reminded him. "These don't have any name on them, not even on the insides of the cuffs. We can't narrow it down to 'shirts and skins' like that quite so easily." 

Kaito drew a breath, chewing his lip. "The _victim_ didn't have any gloves on, either." 

Conan's small head jerked up yet again. "_What?_ You're right--it _is_ the gloves! Dammit, why didn't I think of that? If he was up here working until the time he fell, he'd still be wearing his gloves! So why _isn't_ he?" 

The youth across from him began to smile, light dawning in his own eyes. "Because the murderer got his first set all covered with blood and acid and decided to borrow Otomo-san's instead!" 

"Bingo!" Both of them were grinning widely now. "We can maybe start to guess who it is, if the glove sizes are mismatched--but honestly, I don't think a killer would take that kind of chance unless he _had_ to." 

"Yeah," Kaito agreed. "It'd be pretty suspicious if he was caught with the gloves of a murder victim." 

"So something must have happened," the small boy continued eagerly. "Severe enough that he had to risk discovery just to hide something even more apparent than stolen gloves." 

The teen thief--currently practicing detective--glanced at the gloves once more. "From the stuff going on here, I'd have to guess our man got his fingers burned by his own acid--and he's probably covering it up with Otomo-san's gloves." 

"You took the words right out of my mouth, Kaito," Conan agreed with a half-grin. "_There's_ our evidence. We can have the rope tested for the presence of the acid, and these bloody gloves will have the same kind of acid on them. Once the time-delay fall is revealed, the alibis disappear..." 

"...and the culprit will have acid burns on his fingers that will match the holes in these gloves," Kaito finished, matching his small cousin grin for grin. "Hot damn...we got him!" 

"Not yet," Conan cautioned, his knowing smile sharpening as he prepared to go for the kill. "But we _will_." 

"Hey, let's get down there and tell the Inspector," Kaito said, popping to his feet and adjusting the hood more firmly on his head. "I don't wanna waste any time getting the killer behind bars." 

"Yeah, me either--_ack!_" Conan stood up as well, but it was with a look of sudden horror. "Aw, _crap!_ Inspector Megure doesn't know--he's been down there questioning the witnesses, and they'll only hold anyone _without_ an alibi for the time of the fall! He'll let the _real_ culprit go without ever--!" 

"Oh, don't worry about that," Kaito interjected with a wave of one hand. "I asked him not to let _anyone_ go yet, whether they had an alibi or not. I thought it was something you would do--in case something weird turned up. And it did." 

Conan blinked and stared at him for several seconds, both astonished and relieved. "Kaito, you...you...you're an absolute _genius_, you know that?" 

His cousin shrugged with a grin. "I've been accused of that occasionally, yes." 

"Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head," Conan chuckled. "But honestly, that was a smart move--sorry I didn't think you'd think of it. Thanks a lot." 

"Let's just get down there and catch the bastard, huh?" Kaito replied, his grin getting a bit eager. "Can't wait to see his face when you lay it all out." 

"'Scuse me, _genius_, but that's gonna be _your_ job," the boy reminded him with a snort. "You ready for your performance?" 

Kaito looked a bit abashed, but his shoulders straightened. "I better be. I'm not letting anyone get away with murder, that's for sure--so I don't want to screw this up." 

Conan actually smiled, appreciative of Kaito's determination; really, in these sorts of matters, he and his cousin weren't all that different. "Great. Now we've just got to get this evidence down there in one piece, and we'll work out what you'll say before we go--that way you'll know what to cover and how you need to say it. And you said you've seen me do it as myself at least once, so you know that part; just make sure not to leave out anything we've discovered." 

Kaito crouched once again next to his small cousin, listening as the boy began to talk. Amidst the patter of the rain on the canvas above, Conan explained the particulars of the evidence and the process of snaring the culprit using what they'd found here, detailing the presentation and how the youth would go about his performance. Kaito absorbed the information quietly, asking the occasional question for brief clarification, already formulating his little stageplay in his own mind. 

By the time the two rode the elevator back down to the ground, evidence in hand, both Conan and Kaito were ready to begin the show. 

Inspector Megure was waiting for them the moment the elevator descended. "Ah, there you are--some of these people are getting rather impatient, you know..." 

"Sorry for the delay, Inspector," Kaito replied, once again doing a flawless impression of Shinichi Kudo. "But fortunately, I was able to figure out the trick the murderer used." 

"That's great!" Megure exclaimed, patting "Kudo" on the shoulder again. "Glad to hear it! I was wondering about--" With a pause, the portly inspector looked down at the small boy at Kaito's side. "Wait a second, Kudo-kun--you took Conan-kun up there with you without a harness or anything?" 

"It's okay, Inspector-san!" Conan chirped, smiling innocently. "Shinichi-niichan didn't let me fall." 

"But still--" 

"Inspector, I really need to see your suspects," Kaito interjected smoothly, politely, diverting Megure's attention back to the subject at hand. "I have evidence here for murder--" He held up the gloves and the towel, protected from his touch by the handkerchief. "--but before we jump to any conclusions I'll need to see what you've acquired so far." 

"Er, yes, of course, certainly..." Megure led them back to where the body still lay--and where the large group of workers still waited, looking angry and annoyed. "So far we have three people without an alibi for the time of the fall--" 

"You! Inspector!" growled a large man with a rather gorilla-like face. "How much longer do we have to stand here in the rain? Isn't this an accident? What do you need to keep interrogating us for?" 

"Eh? Ah, just a few minutes more, Yamada-san..." Megure looked vaguely apologetic with his placating gesture, glancing at Kaito and Conan for support. "I think this case is going to be wrapped up very shortly now." 

"Um, 'case,' you said?" asked a younger, thinner man with a rather tremulous voice. "So...it really is a murder?" 

"We can't be suspects, can we?" The third member of those without alibis was a short, balding man with a large nose and an obvious paunch. 

"I'm afraid that's the case here," Megure replied sternly. "You three are the only people so far who don't have a solid alibi for the time that Otomo-san fell. Well then, for Kudo-kun's benefit, would you all be so kind as to repeat what you were doing at approximately five-thirty today?" 

"Che! Why does some brat and his kid brother need to hear about this so-called 'murder?'" the large man snorted. 

Kaito didn't respond to the jab, his Shinichi act preventing him from resorting to his usual reaction to such rudeness--such as a nice trick or two. Instead, he ignored the large man and turned his pointed gaze on the tall young man next to him--who blanched slightly but stuttered to begin. 

"Er, my name is Yutaka Shimoyama," said the youngest of the suspects, with a nervous glance at the irate "gorilla." "I, um, went to the trailer office around that time to get a snack since I didn't have much time for lunch. I was there until I heard people screaming, and when I came out, he had already fallen..." 

"And no one saw him during that whole time, either inside or outside the trailer," Megure added. 

"I see," Kaito replied, resisting the urge to look down at Conan for some sort of confirmation or reassurance. He wished he could see his small cousin's face at least, just as a kind of indicator on his progress, but Shinichi Kudo didn't waver when conducting an investigation, so he turned his gaze to the next man in line--the large, irate gentleman with the rather apelike countenance. "And you?" 

"Hmph. Kojiro Yamada, and I work the crane. I was up there all afternoon since lunch, and I was shutting the crane down about the time he fell. See? It couldn't have been me because for safety reasons, someone always has to be watching over the crane cab." 

"Thank you," Kaito responded neutrally, turning to the last man in line, who seemed a bit more jovial than Yamada. 

"I'm Yoshi Ishikawa," said the balding man, looking sad, "and I was actually on the floor that Otomo-kun fell from, but I never saw anything--I never even knew someone else was up there with us, and I couldn't help him." 

"You were there?" Kaito blurted, almost losing his act. "You were on the same floor when it happened?" 

"Yeah...but I wasn't anywhere near him," Ishikawa replied. "I was at the elevator bay, getting ready to head down for the day. By the time I heard the screams down below, I was already in the elevator and going down." 

"But no one saw when he got out of the elevator, so we can't confirm the timing," Megure interjected. 

"Well done, Inspector," Kaito praised, actually taking this opportunity to glance down at his cousin, but got no support there; Conan was focused on the suspects and the other witnesses, his eyes flashing to and fro as if searching for something--or some_one_. His own eyes flicked back up to Megure, darkening as he continued. "However, if the murder was _not_ actually comitted at five-thirty, but in fact took place earlier--wouldn't that change the circumstances a bit?" 

Megure gasped. "Wh--what are you saying, Kudo-kun?" 

Kaito allowed a small smile to slip through, rather enjoying the chance to boggle a cop face-to-face. "What if the culprit actually killed Otomo-san much earlier, and rigged him up with his safety harness so that when the body fell, he would have an airtight alibi?" 

The Inspector's features went slack with surprise. "Then...then these three..." 

"--might not actually be the suspects we want," Kaito finished for him, when Megure's voice trailed off. The three men in front of them looked supremely relieved. 

Below the radar of the three "suspects" and the cops all around, Conan was peering intently at the other witnesses, still huddled under the meager shelter of the building's structure as they waited out the investigation. The rain was indeed making them miserable and ill-tempered, by the rather unpleasant glances sent in Megure's direction. But by expression alone, he couldn't tell who was the culprit. 

"Inspector," Kaito said, bringing everyone's attention back to himself. "If you would be so kind as to have everyone raise their hands--I'd like to check for something." 

"Will do," Megure replied, and turned to call orders to his officers and the witnesses. Looking bewildered and rebellious, the group of damp construction workers put up both hands like a crowd of prisoners surrendering. 

"Thank you, everyone," Kaito said loudly, walking toward the large group, Conan and Megure splashing after him. "Now, everyone who's wearing any sort of gloves--please step forward." 

Conan pulled up short. _No--baka! What if he takes them off? Stupid, stupid, stupid--oh..._ Suddenly feeling rather stupid himself, resisting the urge to whack himself in the forehead. _If all their hands are in the air, it'd look pretty suspicious if somebody suddenly needed to take off his gloves. Someone would speak up..._

Roughly a quarter of the witnesses gathered stepped out from the group, hands still raised--all of them gloved. Kaito's eyes swept over them, but nothing jumped out at him--and his performance wavered a bit with hesitation. 

Conan, however, went unnoticed as he casually strolled past the group up to his cousin's side--and he spotted the culprit in a single moment, his eyes sharpening to blue lasers. All that was left was to point out the murderer and use the evidence for a solid conviction...but Kaito was the one who had to do it. 

_He's right there, just look. Just like we talked about, remember? Keep it calm, keep your eyes open..._ Standing near his cousin's legs, Conan glanced up as the youth's silence went on a beat too long. Kaito, looking a little discomfited, glanced down at him for the barest instant, as Conan met his gaze with eyes full of hidden urgency. _Come on! Conan can't help--I can't say anything, you have to do this by yourself! The guy with the acid holes in his clothes, right there...right **there!** Come on, Kaito, you can do it...!_

Swallowing, Kaito stepped forward, his gaze intent on the group, as he tried his hardest to become--if even for an instant--Shinichi's equal at this. Mind working rapidly, he remembered the facts they'd gone over, the evidence they had...and with a deep breath and a prayer, he focused on a single individual. 

"You," Kaito said evenly, leveling one finger at the person he'd singled out. "The murderer is _you_." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _And the Episode Door slams shut... _

Don't kill me! Please! I'll get the next file out ASAP! Just wait a little longer...please? Pretty please? Eeeep! 


	22. Passages

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 22: Passages**

The person which Kaito had indicated took a step back in surprise, dismayed; the people nearby turned uncertain eyes toward this new suspect as murmurs of disbelief and suspicion ran rampant through the gathered workers. The three former suspects looked relieved indeed to have the weight of scrutiny moved off of them. 

The one under fire now was an older middle-aged man, with graying hair and broad shoulders, wearing a red plaid flannel shirt. He looked more like a logger than a construction worker, with strong rangy limbs and a face that would have been ruggedly pleasant if not for the shock written across it. "Me...?" he croaked, in a voice that was rough and deep. "But...there's no way..." 

"There is." Kaito's rigid stance didn't falter, though his arm came down to return his hand to his pocket--Kudo's customary posture in such times. His expression was unwavering, but the faintest glimmers of uncertainty in his eyes were invisible to all but the most shrewd of observers--perhaps Conan, if he'd cared to look. 

"Kudo-kun, this man has an alibi," Inspector Megure all but blurted, before catching himself. "But...if what you said is true, then..." 

"If the fall was rigged, then all alibis for five-thirty are meaningless," Kaito replied, using Shinichi's smooth, direct tones. 

"How could I ever do that?" the new suspect demanded, his composure returning as the surprise passed and indignation took hold. "I've worked on the upper stories since this project began--half the people here can vouch for that! Even if this _wasn't_ an accident, there's no way to rig anything up there without someone noticing!" 

"It's very possible, if you have the right equipment--and the right timing," Kaito informed him flatly. "Your name, sir?" 

The older man's eyes narrowed a bit. "Kazuhito Yamo," he replied, biting out his words. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in the vicinity of Kaito's legs, Conan was trying his hardest not to give in to the urge to hop up and down and cheer. With his best effort, the only thing that got through was a faint, twitchy sort of smile, as his mind did the gleeful bouncing for him. _He got it! He got it! **Yes!** Go Kaito! All right! Now let's lay it out and **nail** this guy!_

"Er, Kudo-kun..." Inspector Megure still looked vaguely puzzled, offering a slightly embarassed smile to who he thought was the renowned Detective of the East. "Yamo-san does have a point there. If you see something else to this I'm afraid you're going to have to explain it to me." 

"Very well, Inspector," Kaito replied. As he turned aside to begin his oratory performance, his gaze caught Conan's for an instant--and the glimmer of elation in the boy's eyes was enough to boost his confidence back to one hundred percent. The half-hidden smile on his cousin's face told him everything he needed to know--that he'd gotten it right, and they were going to _do_ this. 

Near the other side of the waiting crowd of witnesses, Noboru Otomo's body had been kindly covered with a light canvas tarp until the investigation was wrapped up and the coroners could take the body away. Kaito led Megure and the others to the corpse, firmly swallowing back any hesitations--and trying not to chuckle as Conan practically skipped at his heels like an excited puppy. 

"Inspector, do you remember our discussion before I went up into the building to investigate?" Kaito inquired, stopping near where the severed end of Otomo's rope lay. "I said that I believed Otomo-san to be dead before he fell. If you examine the body, you'll find that the back of his head was injured, and had been bleeding, before he fell here and was...further damaged." 

Below his line of sight, Conan cocked an amused eyebrow. _**That's** an interesting way to put it, Kaito. Drat, should've remembered to teach you a few of the proper terms...hope Inspector Megure doesn't notice..._

"You might also note that the wound's location," Kaito continued, "which is odd, since Otomo-san has obviously fallen face-down." 

Megure was already lifting back the tarp to peer at the deceased's cranium. "Hmm...you're right, Kudo-kun! With all the blood, we never would have caught this until the body was examined!" 

"The direction this older blood has dripped also specifies the position he was hung in for some time. And since a head wound like this would normally bleed profusely, the fact that there's so little blood indicates that his heart had stopped beating." Kaito avoided looking at the body--it was even more gross from this angle--and instead focussed his attention on the trailing end of the rope. "However, this only tells us that Otomo-san _was_ in fact dead before the time of his actual fall. The real trick here is in the safety harness he's wearing." 

_You're on a roll now,_ Conan cheered silently. _Go with it! You've got Megure eating out of your hand, and you haven't forgotten a thing...!_

His only regret about this might have been that he himself didn't get to be the one up there being The Detective. But then, he'd been a "stagehand" to Kogoro Mouri long enough that he didn't mind playing second fiddle any more--and the gleeful feeling of...was it pride?...at watching Kaito made it a lot more enjoyable than doing Occhan's work for him. After all, he _knew_ that Kaito could do this--he didn't need any help, not like Mouri. Even if he _wasn't_ impersonating Shinichi Kudo, Kaito was just as intelligent and capable as he was; he could do this, just as Shinichi was able to do what Kaito did. 

Now Inspector Megure was kneeling beside Kaito at the severed end of the rope, scrutinizing it as the youth continued his explanation. "This nylon web safety rope would require much more than one human's weight to simply snap, as it appears to have done here," the youth stated, growing more and more sure in his performance with every passing minute. "And if it _had_ simply broken, the ends that we see would be much more frayed. It's the same if someone just cut it--the nylon fibers would become loose and continue to unravel." 

"I see," the Inspector commented. "But it also doesn't appear to have been burned off; we use ropes like this in police operations, and when we have to cut them we always melt the ends to prevent this fraying." 

"You're exactly right, Inspector," Kaito replied, glancing up at Yamo--who was watching them very intently. "Nylon is a form of plastic, and will melt if it's heated. The question remains, then--how was this rope severed?" 

Megure scratched the back of his neck as the two stood up, looking stumped. "You've got me, Kudo-kun." 

Kaito couldn't help but look at Yamo as he spoke--rather enjoying the way the man's eyes widened as the secrets were being laid out, though the youth hid his own faint smile behind Kudo's all-business attitude. "Let's run through the scenario, shall we, Inspector? I'll take you through this murder step by step, and tell you exactly how the culprit pulled off this trick." 

Even the most irate of the witnesses had gone silent to watch the unfolding drama; uniformed policemen peeked up from their duties to observe, and the three former suspects--including the large and impatient Yamada-san--looked on with interest. Serious and intent, Megure held Kaito's gaze for a moment, nodding in acquiescence. 

_Here goes nothing..._ Kaito took a deep breath, steadied himself once more, and began. "To understand this trick, we must go back to a time shortly before five PM--that _is_ the quitting time at this site, isn't it?" 

Mutely, several nearby workers nodded, glancing at each other. 

"Just before quitting time," Kaito went on, "when everyone was already wrapping up their duties for the day and heading down to the ground level, the culprit called Otomo-san away from the other workers. He then led Otomo-san to a place on the far side of the building where no one was working any longer, and there killed him--and as we can see by the wound, Otomo-san was struck on the back of the head with a heavy object." 

Megure nodded again, glancing down at the corpse's cranium once again. 

"At this point, the culprit had to be very careful," Kaito said, with yet another covert look at Yamo--who was tight-lipped and silent. "There were still people working on the upper floors, but all the scaffolding, hanging tarps, and wall sections would block their view. Our culprit waited until most everyone was gone before moving the body to a location that he had already chosen--a section of the building toward the center, with no flooring all the way to the ground, so that Otomo-san would indeed 'fall to his death.'" 

Close at Kaito's side, Conan tried not to stare obviously at Yamo-san, who was beginning to look almost pale. 

"The murderer had to be someone fairly strong, too. The rope that was already hung there could not be weakened beforehand in case anyone actually used it. So he had to hook the clasp to Otomo-san's harness while carrying him--and then he couldn't let go, or the body would swing out over the open space below and he would not be able to complete his ruse." 

"But...Kudo-kun, how did he cause the rope to break?" Megure all but demanded, on the edge of his seat to find out how it was done. "If he couldn't cut or weaken the rope beforehand, how could he rig it to break if he had to keep a hold on the body?" 

Kaito allowed a smile to slip through--though he contained it to one of his cousin's "I-know-something-you-don't-know" polite smirks. "Ah, that's the center of the whole trick, Inspector," he said. "Once the harness was fastened to the rope, he could let the rope take the weight of the body while he merely held on to it to keep it from swinging away. Then, with his free hand, the culprit reached into his pocket...and drew out a small container, probably a little glass jar. Getting it open was a bit awkward, having to also keep a grip on the rope, so I'm probably right in assuming that the contents splashed a bit..." 

Neither Kaito nor Conan missed the tightening of Yamo's jaw. Megure, however, looked puzzled. "'Splashed,' you said?" 

"That's correct, Inspector," Kaito continued, turning his gaze back to the portly man. "Our culprit used some kind of strong acid on the rope, which dissolved the fibers gradually until it gave way--giving him plenty of time to make it to the ground and establish an alibi for the time of the body's fall. If you test the rope ends and the gloves I found up there, you should find the evidence of this acid, and what type it was." 

_Everyone_ set up a murmur at this startling news, dawning comprehension spreading through policemen, witnesses--and Inspector Megure himself. "_Acid!_" he exclaimed, setting his fist in his palm. "Of _course!_" 

"The hole in this trick is...well, the holes," Kaito continued with a wry smile. "This acid would not only eat through the rope, but through anything else it touched. If you look at the back of Otomo-san's clothing, you'll find small holes where the acid dripped as it was being poured onto the rope itself. Also, on these bloodstained gloves, the same holes can be seen, especially here on the left hand which held the rope as the acid was being poured." 

"I see," Megure acknowledged, turning the work-gloves over to examine the holes in them. "Then I suppose the holes in the right hand came from the sloshing as the jar was opened. Oh--Kudo-kun, you didn't find the jar where the acid was kept?" 

Kaito shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Inspector. But that does tie in to the end of the trick, here--how the evidence was scattered and destroyed." 

"Please continue, then," Megure said. 

"The jar itself could easily be thrown from the top floor--and wherever it landed, it would most likely shatter to pieces and be nearly impossible to find. The gloves I found on the floor below, apparently tossed off. This bloody rag--" Kaito held up the handkerchief-wrapped towel. "--was found in the rag bins, thrown there with the rest of the dirty rags to avert suspicion." 

"Then...this bloody towel..." Megure peered at it, eyes widening. 

"This was used to wipe up the blood from the place Otomo-san was actually killed," Kaito replied. "After the body was hung up and the acid applied to the rope, the murderer could go back and cover his tracks. For example, throwing away his gloves and the jar." 

The Inspector looked puzzled again. "Er, but...if the murderer threw away his gloves...why did you want to look over the people who _were_ wearing gloves?" 

"Don't you see the holes in the gloves, Inspector?" Kaito inquired, barely keeping a grin off his face--for being marginally more observant than Nakamori, Inspector Megure still needed a lot of hints to get the picture. "While the culprit was pouring the acid on the rope, it was soaking through his gloves just like any liquid. So before he let go of the rope, he took Otomo-san's gloves to replace his own, which would soon be riddled with holes." 

As realization struck, Megure glanced at Otomo's body once again--and observed that the man was indeed missing his work-gloves. "But how can we tell who has Otomo-san's gloves? Unless...he might've written his name on them." 

"Maybe," Kaito said. "But it wouldn't it be much easier just to identify the murderer, rather than check every glove in this crowd?" 

The Inspector jerked back around, his gaze whipping from Kaito to Yamo. "Then...you're absolutely _sure--?_" 

"Positive, Inspector," Kaito replied, his eyes once more on the tall construction worker--who was staring at him with fixed eyes and iron-tight jaw. "It's simple. For one thing, the acid he sloshed on the gloves left the same holes in _his_ clothes that it did in Otomo-san's." 

Exclamations rose from the crowd--and with a short gasp, Yamo glanced down at his shirtfront and coat sleeves, where there were indeed small, inexplicable holes in every place that a drop of acid might have fallen. 

"Um, as I remember," Ishikawa whispered aside to one of his fellow former suspects, "Yamo-kun _was_ one of the last people to go down before...you know..." 

Yamo's eyes abruptly jerked back up to Kaito's. "That doesn't prove anything!" he blurted. "I do solder and light welding! I might've gotten these holes from sparks or burns!" 

"If you did, then the material would show evidence of having been burned," Kaito retorted evenly. "I'm sure that we'll find the same acid on your clothes as we will on the victim's. And that's not the only proof I have." 

Everyone was staring at Yamo, from the astonished workers to the three former suspects, all of them shocked. "You...you can't have anything else," Yamo protested weakly. "You can't even prove I killed him. There's no weapon, right?" 

"The weapon could be anything," Kaito stated. "A bar, a board, a tool. But when you killed him and carried him, you got blood on your gloves--and I'm willing to bet there's traces of blood on your clothing, too." 

"But those bloodstained gloves...you can't prove they're mine." 

"No...maybe they're not yours," Kaito responded with a faint shrug. "Maybe you only borrowed them from someone to pull this off." 

Conan glanced up at his cousin with a bit of a frown. _Hey, ease up on the sarcasm, pal! That's not like me--well, at least not on a case..._

"However," Kaito went on, "I _can_ prove that you were wearing these gloves when you killed Otomo-san and rigged the rope with acid." 

Yamo went silent, his throat bobbing in a hard swallow. Megure watched the man intently, gaze now and then flicking to Kaito. 

"Yamo-san," Kaito said softly into the stillness that waited with bated breath, "would you mind taking off Otomo-san's gloves--and showing us the acid burns on your hands?" 

Multiple gasps sounded all around them. Yamo's face was tight as Megure stepped closer to him to speak sternly. "I'm afraid I'm going to ask the same, Yamo-san. Please take off the gloves." 

Numbly, the tall worker pulled the heavy leather work-gloves off, dropping them carelessly to the damp ground. Beneath them, the rugged, long-fingered hands were marked with puffy, angry red burns, heavily on the left hand. 

"Inspector," Kaito went on quietly into the shocked silence, "you'll find that the pattern of the burns on Yamo-san's hands matches the holes in the gloves. As I said, the acid soaked through them like any liquid would, and has been eating away at his skin just like the gloves, the rope, and the clothing." He paused, a bit of the Shinichi mask wavering as he met the stunned man's gaze. "Um...Yamo-san, you should probably wash your hands as soon as possible--_after_ the police test your skin for the acid, that is." 

Megure looked at Yamo's hands, then at the gloves, carefully scrutinizing them. "Seems like you're right, Kudo-kun. All the splash-marks do appear to line up." 

As Megure handed the work-gloves off to a policeman, Yamo never even looked at him. Instead, his empty, stupefied gaze remained fixed on Kaito, locking the youth's blue eyes with his hollow dark ones. "It's his fault," the accused whispered dully, his acid-burned hands still held out numbly as if beseeching. "Otomo--it's his fault. He caused it." 

Megure paused, his stern gaze returning to Yamo. "What do you mean?" 

Yamo's teeth gritted--and though expression began to return to his face, his eyes never once strayed from Kaito's. "It's all that bastard's fault!" he burst out, his acid-scarred left hand darting out to point at the cold, bloody corpse. "He brought it on himself--_he killed my son!_" 

"He killed...?" Kaito jerked invisibly; only Conan was close enough to sense his cousin's flinch--close enough to feel Kaito almost begin to _draw back_. Though the youth didn't outwardly move, the mask had begun to waver. 

_Whoa!_ Conan's gaze jerked up to Kaito's face, suddenly concerned. _Don't back down now--not now! This is the hardest part--don't lose it, Kaito...!_

"That's right!" Yamo replied, his voice a harsh echoing rasp over the graveled work yard that held the attention of every person there. "Exactly one year ago--it was my son's first job, his first _real_ job. There was an accident on the girders way up high, and my son's harness snapped. But he hung on! He held on, pleading for help, and that bastard Otomo just let him fall! He was right there, and he did _nothing!_ He let my son die! So I bashed his head in and gave him what he deserved!" 

Kaito swallowed hard. Caught up in the thrill and intrigue of solving the mystery and catching the culprit, he'd forgotten that even a murderer might have reasons for what he did. Hesitation crept into his Shinichi mask--but the touch of a small hand on his knee stopped the doubt from reaching his face. He glanced down for a fraction of a second, meeting blue eyes filled with understanding behind glass lenses. 

Yamo's eyes were full of tears and frustration, anger and bitterness, as Megure stepped up to him with handcuffs ready. "Yamo-san, I'm going to have to place you under arrest," the Inspector stated. 

"Go ahead," Yamo snapped. "I have no regrets. Except one--that Otomo was dead before he fell. He didn't get to see how my son really felt, falling to his death--" 

"Maybe there was nothing he _could_ do," piped up a small, childish voice from just below them, making both men look down and causing Kaito to start--visibly this time--as he realized that Conan had left his side and walked right up to the accused murderer. 

"Conan-kun!" Megure began, almost scoldingly, but the little boy continued in a slightly sad tone. 

"Maybe Otomo-san _wanted_ to save your son, Ojisan, but he couldn't." Conan's bright blue eyes pierced into Yamo's with more resolve than even Kaito had managed. "You said it was an accident. Maybe he _couldn't_ help, and Otomo-san was sad too." 

Megure and his officers, and the witnesses--even Kaito watched Conan with startled surprise as he spoke. Yamo stared mutely down at the deep-eyed child, anger melting from his features to be replaced by shock--and then, growing regret. 

"I think...Ojisan..." Conan hesitated for a moment, his features still childishly sweet but inexplicably wise. "I think your son wouldn't like to see you doing this. I think...if your son was here today, he would've saved Otomo-san." 

Tears of regret caused the last of the rage to vanish from the stricken man's eyes. Nodding silently to the mysterious child at his feet, Kazuhito Yamo quietly allowed the police officers to lead him to the squadcar waiting just outside the gates of the work yard. 

The construction site mystery had finally ended. 

There was a massive release of tension in the gathered workers and onlookers; policemen began to wrap things up, the body was bagged to be taken away, all the witnesses began to gather themselves and leave--and in the midst of the chaotic flow of human beings, two silent blue-eyed figures stood side-by-side, one large and one small, motionless together in the sea of people. 

Those two pairs of blue eyes at last met, still silent. And without a word to anyone, Conan and Kaito slipped along with the crowd through the gate and disappeared into the streets. 

* * * * *

Neither of them had even needed to speak, to agree that they shouldn't hang around the construction site and wait for Inspector Megure to finish wrapping things up. Outside of a case, someone might notice that the teenage youth wasn't quite Kudo, and too many questions could be asked that Kaito might have no idea how to answer. Megure was growing used to Shinichi's quick disappearances after solving a mystery anyway. 

And at this point, Conan observed as he watched his cousin from the corner of his eye, acting was probably the last thing on Kaito's mind. 

The rain still sprinkled down from the gray skies above, as if reflecting the young man's thoughts. His hood pulled up against the drizzle, Kaito walked with his hands in his jacket pockets and his gaze turned inward, as if his feet were running on automatic to lead him home. Frowning so, he no longer looked as much like the Shinichi Kudo he had so flawlessly imitated only minutes before. His face was once again set with Kaito Kuroba's expressions and moods, and thus the differences were suddenly easy to pick out. 

Walking at his side, Conan only watched quietly from beneath rain-tousled bangs, his hair damp and bedraggled and his glasses spattered with raindrops. The rain-chill had long since soaked through his coat from being so long out in the weather, making him hunch slightly from the cold. From the pace they were going, such that he was having to hurry a bit, it was almost as if Kaito had forgotten that he was there. 

He was so accustomed to Kaito's usual brightness and animation that the introspective silence was beginning to unnerve him. It wasn't like Kaito to be so withdrawn and meditative, and Conan had begun to worry that something was really wrong. It also disturbed him a bit to realize how much he had come to depend on his cousin as a source of stability, even after such a short time knowing him. 

It surprised him still how readily he had latched on to his cousin, and in his heart of hearts there was infinite relief and gladness to have found a friend/brother who had proven himself ready, willing, and able to stand with him through anything. He even found himself wishing he would have the strength to do the same. 

Well, now was a good time to start. 

"Kaito?" he spoke up, finally turning to face his cousin fully as they strode along. "Hey, Kaito!" 

"Hn?" The teen blinked, as if surprised for a second to have a small traveling companion beside him, then shook himself into focus. "Oh, sorry. What did you say?" 

"I haven't said anything yet," Conan replied, his mouth quirking a little. "What's the matter with you?" 

Kaito shrugged in reply, almost a hunching of his shoulders. "Nothing much. Just thinking about...that case." 

"Ah." Conan nodded understandingly, his gaze turning back to the sidewalk passing by underfoot. "Yeah, that was one of the sad ones. Most of them usually are, in one way or another...and some of them are a lot worse. Everybody has reasons for what they do, and it's not always--" 

"That's not it." They were side-by-side mirror images, large and small, both with hands in pockets and eyes on the sidewalk. However, Kaito's face was shadowed with the faintest worry. "I realized...when Yamo-san was telling us all why he did it...I thought..." 

"What?" Conan asked softly, patiently. 

"Is that _me?_" Kaito half-blurted quickly. "A man like that, who lost someone important...and then planned for so long, so precisely, for revenge and retribution...is that what I am? Isn't that the same thing...just the same as what I'm doing now?" 

Conan looked up to meet his cousin's eyes, inwardly startled to see the genuine concern and--dare he think it--_fear_ lurking in the blue depths. The turnabout unsettled him a bit; this time, Kaito was the one looking to _him_ for reassurance and strength. 

"I don't know," he replied honestly, at length. "It could be. It might be exactly the same thing, and it's only your methods that are different. You're going so far as to break the law to get to your father's killers." 

"I see..." Kaito's gaze turned back down to the concrete. 

"But you're not...doing it all that badly," Conan went on, half-hesitantly. "You're not plotting to murder people...and you're not out to hurt anyone in your way. I know enough now to know there's not many other ways of stopping the people we're up against. And you're not willing to stoop to killing people for revenge." 

"That's just it," Kaito replied, near a whisper. "I just _don't know_. If it comes to that...I've already lost Dad. If they were gonna hurt Mom or Aoko or..." 

Conan took a deep breath. "I know," he said, the tone of his soft little-boy voice telling Kaito all he needed to hear. What it might come to, given the situation they were in, and the lives of their friends and family in the balance... "_I know_." 

Silence reigned between them for a minute or so, as they continued walking slowly along the sidewalk. Around them, evening grew old as the sun slipped further into the horizon. 

"And...I'm obviously not the best person to ask," Conan continued, drawing a brief, surprised glance from his cousin. "I've never lost anyone like you. No one's murdered my family. I've never been through what you have. I can understand what you're thinking, and why...but I've never..." 

Kaito swallowed hard. "Even if you didn't know him...you _did_ lose your uncle, Shinichi." 

Conan looked up with a faint, sad smile. "So I did. Sorry. I just--" 

"It's okay." Kaito glanced away again. "Actually, it means a lot to me that you...that you accept me--who I am, who our family is... When we first met, I was almost certain you were going to turn me away, if not turn me in...I was really taking a chance, hoping that you'd..." He shrugged, not sure how to say it. "Being who _you_ are, if you can accept who I am, that must mean I'm not too far gone, huh?" 

Kaito's wan smile brightened a little when Conan smiled in reply. "'Too far gone' my foot," the small boy responded, his tone lightening. "If you really _had_ been some sort of serial murderer, I never would have let you off so easy all those times." 

Kaito's face slipped into an expression of pure surprise, and he actually stopped dead still on the sidewalk, staring at Conan as if he'd never seen him before. "You--you call that _easy?_" 

"Well, yeah." Hiding his smile behind an air of adopted nonchalance, the boy shrugged lightly. "You're just a thief--I don't waste much of my efforts on small fry." 

"Just a--just a--_small fry--?_" Kaito spluttered, his eyes gone round and huge and his voice lost to indignation. 

Unable to resist any longer, Conan let his grin go free, beaming up at his cousin with such laughter that Kaito's stuttering halted. "Gotcha!" 

After his jaw was finished dropping, Kaito shut his mouth and mock-glowered. "You're gonna pay for that, squirt." 

Conan's only reply was a decidedly un-innocent snicker. 

"Hmph." Kaito started walking again--a bit more slowly this time, so Conan wouldn't have to hurry beside him--his mood definitely lightened by his cousin's laughter and teasing. "You're soaked. Ran'll kill me if you catch a cold on my watch--come on, we're almost to my house." 

"What are you, my babysitter?" Conan snorted, running a hand through his wet bangs. 

This time, it was Kaito's turn to chuckle, as they turned the last corner that would lead them to their destination. 

"Here we are!" Kaito announced, swinging the front gate open and stepping back to let his small cousin inside. "Welcome to the humble Kuroba abode!" 

Wide-eyed and curious, Conan stared around at the yard and the dwelling, taking everything in with not a little surprise. The neighborhood was not the same as where Shinichi had lived back in Beika, but Kaito's house was fairly large compared to its fellows, set in a wide green yard with a trim sidewalk leading up to the door. Cheery yellow light poured forth from the house's many windows, and apart from the brickwork patio leading off the upstairs, it wasn't that much different from Shinichi's own home. 

"It's...it's nice," Conan finally said, as Kaito shut the gate behind him. 

Kaito grinned. "What--you were expecting I live in a secret underground hideout, like the Bat-Cave? Sheesh..." 

His cheeks faintly pink, Conan grumbled and followed the taller youth up the walk. 

Kaito led him in the front door, lazily calling out into the house in general as he kicked off his shoes. "Mom, I'm home! Sorry I'm late, got caught up in some stuff, but we...!" 

"Kaito!" Fumiyo Kuroba almost seemed to _appear_ in the hallway before them. "What on earth were you up to this time? It's getting dark, for heaven's sake, and I thought you--oh!" 

Conan, still standing by the door with his shoes on, fidgeted a bit but bowed politely when Fumiyo noticed him there. "I--uh--good evening, Obasan..." 

"Oh my goodness...!" Fumiyo clutched one hand to her chest, taking in his damp, bedraggled state. "Shin-chan! You're soaking wet! Oh, here, go ahead and leave your shoes--and take off that coat, you'll catch your death!" Taking the dampened jacket from the small boy, she glared rather sharply at her son. "Kaito! What are you doing, dragging your cousin around in the rain like this?" 

Kaito gaped at her for a second. "But I--he--it wasn't--" 

But Fumiyo was already turning back to Conan. "Here, come sit down and warm up--I'll get you a towel, and I've just put some hot water on so some tea will do you good..." Hanging up the wet coat, the woman bustled off to fetch the towel, leaving two rather stunned boys behind her. 

At length, Kaito huffed. "Yeah...'Hello Mom, nice to see you--sure, I'd love some hot tea, I'm a little chilled myself.'" He leveled his cousin with a _look_. "It's not _my_ fault we were out in the rain." 

Conan eyed him right back. "Can I help it that she thinks I need to be coddled?" 

"Grow up, squirt." 

"Don't I wish." 

Both boys padded down the hall, the smaller tentatively following the taller as Kaito led the way into the house, past the living room and kitchen to meet up with Fumiyo as she returned with a soft, thick bath towel. 

"Here you are, Shin-chan," she said, offering the towel with a smile. 

"Uh, thanks," Conan replied, his exasperation about the "coddling" disappearing in the face of the woman's kindness. 

"Mom," Kaito interjected, "Shinichi and I are gonna put up in the rec room for now. We've got some stuff to do." 

His slight emphasis on "stuff" caused a few shadows to flit across his mother's features, but they were gone in an instant as surely as if she'd put up her own Poker Face. "That's fine!" she replied easily. "I'll bring the tea and snacks in there, then. You boys go right ahead. Make yourself at home, Shin-chan--anything specific you'd like to eat?" 

The not-quite-gradeschooler shrugged, clutching the woolly towel. "Um...anything without raisins..." 

Fumiyo smiled graciously and nodded, then hurried off to the kitchen once more. 

"Jeeze, what's got her in such a _mood?_" Kaito wondered aloud, looking slightly miffed. "Huh. Anyways, let's go. I'll show you the rec room--and my dad's, um, _other_ room..." 

Conan managed a grin over the top of the fluffy towel. "You mean your Bat-Cave?" 

"Oh, shut up." But the words were tempered with a chuckle, and Conan's grin didn't falter as they continued toward the back of the house. 

The rec room was one of the largest rooms in Kaito's home, with the possible exception of the living room. It was open and well-lit, with smooth wood-panel flooring and a large, curtain-screened sliding glass door that presumably led out to the back yard. A stereo system with big speakers, complete with racks of tapes and CDs, was set against the wall by the door they had just entered; along the windowless wall perpendicular to it was a nice-sized television set and entertainment center with its own speakers, adjacent to a bookshelf full of videos and DVDs. Various cushions and beanbag chairs were scattered about the floor. 

"Wow..." Conan said, unmindful of the rather awed, jealous expression on his face. "I want a room like this in _my_ house..." 

"You've got your own in-home library, so don't complain," Kaito chuckled. With a wry look, he plucked the towel out of his small cousin's arms and dropped it over the boy's tousled head. "Dry off, would you? Before my mom comes back and chews me out again." 

"Hey!" Conan's small form nearly disappeared under the fluffy yellow towel, and his muffled grumbles only made Kaito snicker more. So he tugged the expanse of fabric off himself, glasses askew, and glared at his taller cousin. "Knock it off already." 

Still chuckling, Kaito strode across the rec room, kicking various cushions out of his way as he went. "Fine, but either way, I'm not letting you in my dad's room until you're _not_ dripping rainwater." 

"As if I _like_ walking around soaking wet." Conan resisted an urge to stick his tongue out at his cousin, instead directing his efforts toward drying his hair. Removing his glasses to set them on the stereo speaker next to him, he once again disappeared under the thick towel as he proceeded to rub down. Toweling off his hair and other wet places helped him rid himself of the lingering chill of the rain, though with his clothing still marginally damp it would take him a little longer to get completely dry. And it wasn't as if he had a change of clothes handy. 

"_There_," he announced, once again emerging from under the towel. "That better?" 

"Good enough, I guess," replied Kaito with a faint shrug, looking his still-slightly-damp cousin over. The little boy's hair was actually surprisingly curly when it was wet, reminding him of his Aunt Yukiko. 

"What should I do with this?" Conan asked, holding up the towel in one hand. 

"Doesn't matter," Kaito replied, moving to stand near a picture frame on the wall across from the TV. "Come on over here." 

Dropping the towel in a fuzzy pile near the door, Conan went to Kaito's side, peering up at the cheerful painting of a white-clad magician on the wall. For a moment he stared at it, taking in the man's unruly dark hair and startlingly familiar face...and the smile, which he could have sworn he _knew_--and then comprehension struck. "That's...that's..." 

Kaito nodded, licking his lips, his face gone strangely somber and wistful. "Yeah, this is him. Shinichi, meet my dad--your uncle, Toichi Kuroba." He smiled faintly, glancing from the picture to the boy beside him and back again, his voice growing so soft it was little more than a whisper. "Dad, meet your nephew, Shinichi..." 

Conan--_Shinichi_ stared up at the unmoving picture, suddenly feeling as though the painted face was smiling warmly at him in friendly greeting...as if for a moment the man picured there really _was_ looking down at him, welcoming him. His glance flicked to his cousin for an instant, catching the emotions there--emotions open on Kaito's face if only for a split second--and felt an echo in his own heart, across his own features. "Hello, Ojisan," he said, equally soft. "Nice to meet you..." 

Kaito looked down at him for a moment more, something deep and appreciative flicking through his eyes, quickly hidden again behind his usual smile as he shook himself. "'Kay, this is the secret part. Can't tell _anyone_ about this--only Mom and Jii and your parents know about this room. And now _you_ do." 

"Room?" Shinichi blinked, puzzled. 

Kaito winked at him and grinned. "Just watch." 

One hand was placed flat against the left side of the painting, and a small amount of pressure was applied. Shinichi could hear a faint _click_ somewhere within the wall, as the large painting itself suddenly rotated on its center axis, revealing a narrow passage behind it. 

"Whoa--!" Eyes wide, Shinichi stared at the secret doorway, his inquisitive mind already anxious to venture into the mysterious room beyond. 

Kaito's grin only broadened as he held the spring-loaded painting/door steady. "Wanna see?" 

Shinichi glanced up at him, blue eyes glimmering almost eagerly, clear and bright without the lenses of Conan's glasses. "Is it...really okay?" 

"Sure," Kaito replied with a shrug. "If things were different, I'm sure Dad wouldn't mind at all. In fact, he'd probably be happy." 

There was no way his small cousin could hope to hide the sheer curiosity burning in his gaze; as much as he might try to deny it, half of Shinichi's soul pulled him toward the secrets waiting behind the hidden door. 

"Here," Kaito offered, bracing the painting against his shoulder and reaching down. "I'll help you through--and I'm _asking_ this time. 'Kay?" 

Shinichi glanced up at him, small hands resting on the lower rim of the gap and guaging the height of the bottom of the door. It was tall enough that if he wished to pass through by himself, he'd have to clamber up and over--which would be an embarrassingly clumsy process in the closeness of the narrow door. "Thanks," he replied gratefully. "Go ahead." 

With a nod, Kaito lifted his small cousin easily through the opening, setting him smoothly down inside before stepping through himself--letting the painting/door _snick_ shut behind him. For a moment, they stood silent in the still dimness until Kaito reached out for the long-familiar switch, flooding the room with light. 

"_Ah...!_" This time Shinichi gaped wordlessly, awed by what lay within the hidden room. Beside him, Kaito stood proudly at the threshold of his father's secret chamber. Ahead of them lay all the implements, tools, and equipment of Kaitou Kid--every piece dedicated to the tricks of the Trade, every item a small piece of Kid's existence. A part of Kaito's life, each time he donned his father's mantle and ventured out into the night. 

This was the place it had all began--and now, was beginning _again_. 

"Welcome, cousin," Kaito said softly with a strange, ironic smile, "to the Phantom Thief's lair." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _Whew! The mystery's done. *falls over* Thanks for your patience, everyone! I hope the Kaito/Conan Mystery-Solving Duo lived up to everybody's expectations. More to come soon, complete with tea and snacks! ^_^ Thanks again, later all!_


	23. Through the Looking Glass

((Disclaimer: Shinichi/Conan, Ran, Kaito, Heiji, and all the rest belong to Gosho Aoyama. Meitantei Conan and Majiku Kaitou are all his! I don't own anything; I'm only borrowing them. Standard legalities apply. Please enjoy!)) 

  
  
**Relative Truth**   
_by Becky Tailweaver_

  
**File 23: Through the Looking Glass**

There was just...so much..._stuff_. 

Not even in the back corner of his father's attic had Shinichi seen this much interesting clutter. _Here_ was an entire room full of _things_--half of which he could barely identify and half of which he itched to investigate--packed in wall-to-wall and then some, overflowing the floor and hanging from the bare beams above. 

And what a dazzling variety of items! Everything that could possibly be associated with the trade of a trickster, an impersonator, a magician, and a thief--stacked high on shelves, piled into bins, hung off racks, loaded onto tabletops, stuffed into boxes...every sort of intriguing gadget, magical doodad, and puzzle-like contraption, all begging to be explored, tried out, played with... 

"_Woooowww_..." 

One single, awe-filled whisper seemed the best adjective at the time. Shinichi stared about in utter amazement, the perfect picture of a little kid itching to be turned loose in a brand new toy store. 

Standing at his small cousin's side, Kaito allowed a proud grin to spread across his face as he looked down at the wide-eyed boy. "Neat, huh?" 

Gape-mouthed, Shinichi glanced up at him, an eager smile tugging at his lips. "Wow...!" he repeated, struggling to regain his voice. "Wh...where did all this _come_ from?" 

"It's my dad's," Kaito replied, as if that explained it all. Stepping to the middle of the room--or rather, to the middle of the available floorspace--he spread his arms wide, encompassing every interesting item within the chamber. "It's all his! Everything he put together for Kaitou Kid, absolute _tons_ of his old magic stuff, and disguises, and trick props..._everything_." 

"Can I--can I--?" Unable to properly phrase his avid request, Shinichi gestured vaguely at the piles of stuff. "Could I maybe...?" 

Kaito grinned apologetically, dropping his arms to his sides. "I'd love to let you satisfy your curiosity...but...I don't think it's a good idea for you to go poking around in here unsupervised." 

"_What?_" Shinichi looked suddenly indignant. "But I'm not--!" 

"It's got nothing to do with your size," Kaito informed him honestly. "Even _I_ haven't checked out _everything_ in here, and I don't want you to lose fingers or anything if you get into something weird back in some dark corner." 

"Oh..." The indignant look faded, to be replaced by grudging comprehension--and only a faint amount of petulance. 

"Just hang on a sec--I'll get my stuff." Kaito headed over to a nearby section of the room that he had more or less claimed as "his" corner, where he kept his plans, heist mementos, and what bits of disguise and magic that belonged solely to him. 

A rather morose sigh from the faux gradeschooler behind him made him chuckle and shake his head. "Come on, I'll let you look at stuff later--I promise. It's not like it's going anywhere--and besides, Mom'll be back soon with the snacks." 

"I know, I know..." Shinichi sounded..._disappointed_ as he gazed longingly about, his eyes lingering briefly at the box of card-gun parts, the rack of limp latex masks, the shelf full of listening devices... 

With an sigh, Kaito set to going through his stack of notes and plans on his latest heist, pulling out what he thought he'd need to explain it all to his cousin. And then, from the shelf above the table, copies of the blueprints he'd _borrowed_ from the city planning office, all in neat rolls organized according to floor. 

As he turned back around, papers in hand, he noticed that his cousin was no longer standing there looking petulantly around at all the neat stuff he'd love to get his hands on...but was gazing steadily at something beyond Kaito, near the desk he'd just fetched his notes from. 

"Is that...your dad's box?" the small boy asked, his voice suddenly very, very soft. 

"Huh?" Kaito blinked, then glanced back. There, to the side of the table he'd requisitioned as his own, sat a smoothly-polished white trunk, trimmed with silver metalwork. "Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Yup, that's the one--just like _your_ dad's, only white." 

"Yeah..." Shinichi was staring at the trunk with a strange sort of apprehension that made Kaito's humor melt away into something more serious. 

Memory clicked. "Can you open it?" Kaito asked abruptly. 

Shinichi jolted out of his stare a bit, glancing up at him. "Yeah, I can. I opened my dad's trunk." 

Something inside him quickened--mabe his heartbeat, maybe that feeling of anticipation. "Show me." Hurriedly, Kaito set his plans back down on the desk and fished about on the messy surface for the various sets of lockpicks and such he knew he'd left there. When he found several smaller picks, he held them out to his small cousin, a gleam of anticipation in his eyes. "Show me you can do it." 

Shinichi gave him a puzzled look, glancing at the picks and then back at Kaito's face. "What for?" 

"Just...um..." Kaito fidgeted. "It's something Jii told me...and I wanted to see if you..." 

"Uh...okay." Shinichi raised an eyebrow, clearly nonplussed, but accepted the tools quietly and looked them over, his fingers settling on two of the smallest picks in his palm. 

Kaito watched intently as Shinichi hunkered down in front of the box and began to unlimber the lockpicks, setting down all but the two smallest and maneuvering one into each hand. 

Shinichi regarded the trunk for a few moments, his eyes brushing past the large, gaudy padlock on the front and settling on one of the two pieces of plating that hid the real locks beneath. It had taken him a bit to figure it out with his father's black-and-gold chest--but now that he knew what to do, it was simple to slide back the hinged flaps and insert the picks simultaneously into the small openings. It took a little time--this trunk's lock was _different_, he could feel that as he worked--but not as much as his first try on Yuusaku's box, when he'd had to puzzle everything out on his own. 

In a few moments, the two locks _snapped_ as one...and the white chest was open. 

He looked up to find Kaito beaming at him as if he'd just won a prize. "You _can_ do it," his cousin said with an appreciative grin. "You really _can_." 

Still puzzled, Shinichi handed the lockpicks back. "What are you so excited about?" he finally asked, confusion giving way to a bit of exasperation. "What's so important about me opening a box, when it would've been _much_ easier just to use the keys?" 

"That's not the point." Kaito started to laugh, tossing his lockpicks back onto the messy desktop and reaching out to ruffle the little boy's hair in a manner that made Shinichi grumble and duck away. "Jii told me--this trunk doesn't _have_ any keys!" 

Smoothing his mussed hair, the Shinichi blinked. "It...doesn't?" 

The chuckling teen grinned at him. "I guess you could call it a Kaitou's Box," he replied, reaching down to pull back the lid. "Jii told me it was made with no keys, and very special locks. Two separate locks, completely different from each other, that have to be picked at the same time." His grin widened as he reached deep inside the box to pull out a slightly-faded, slightly-worn top hat. 

An old _white_ top hat. Shinichi gulped, that apprehensive feeling returning again. "So...you have to be...good at lock-picking..._and_ ambidextrous...and...able to solve two different puzzles at once..." 

Kaito set the white hat on his own head, pulling it low and rakishly as Kid was wont to do, his grin fading into the thief's mysterious smile. "You've just about got it, cousin," he replied, his voice lowered and softened as it had been the first time the two had ever spoken--Kid and Conan, on a cold windy hotel roof far from here. "To open that trunk, you have to be one of _us_." 

Something in Shinichi's troubled gaze seemed to _flinch_, and his entire face closed down in a way that was far too sharp for such a little boy's features. "I _know_ that--you don't have to keep reminding me!" he snapped abruptly, his tone suddenly raw. "I don't care _what_ I'm supposed to be, but I'm never going to be anything like _you!_ And I'm _never_ going to be proud of any of this...this whole...!" His small hands flailed toward the room around them in an all-encompassing gesture, helpless to put into words the entirety of his questionable birthright. 

_"This whole family," you mean? I never expected you to embrace it like me, but...are you really **that** ashamed of your heritage?_ Struck, not voicing his own bitter thoughts, Kaito stared at him in rebuffed silence; the look of the Kid vanished into that of a saddened teen, hurt by his small cousin's sudden, heated rejection. "Shinichi...that's not what I meant..._honest_..." 

"Stop pushing it at me!" Shinichi spat at him, arms rigid at his sides, his voice gone shrill with anger and...something else. "I don't want it! I never wanted _any_ of this--!" 

A firm rap on the painting/door to the room made them both jump around, equally startled. "Kaito? Shin-chan? Are you two in there? I've brought the snacks!" 

Fumiyo's voice was like cool water on a flame; the heat between the two of them petered out and vanished, leaving faint injuries that quickly began to ease themselves. Almost guiltily, Kaito removed the worn old hat and set it back in the box, firmly closing the polished white lid and letting it lock. 

"It's Mom," he sighed, stating the obvious as though to remind himself--and rather relieved that it wasn't somebody _else_. He glanced down at his cousin, taking in the small form standing head-down, rigid arms gone slack. "Shinichi...I'm sorry...I didn't mean it like that--" 

"It's nothing," Shinichi replied, turning away toward the door. "My fault. Never mind." 

Concerned, and only halfway hiding it, Kaito watched him for a moment before he gathered up his papers and blueprints and followed him back to the secret door. "Um...Shinichi, if you don't really want to do this, I'll take you back home--" 

"I said never mind," the boy stated flatly, his tone not betraying one emotion or another, just simply dull. "And I said I would, didn't I? I keep my word." He then glared up at the painting/door for a moment, frowning. "Just...how do you open it?" 

"Like this," Kaito replied, hiding his short laugh behind what could have been a cough or a snort. He shifted his armload of blueprints and papers and reached out to place his hand once more against the two-sided painting. With yet another soft _click_ the door opened again, letting in the light from the rec room--as well as Fumiyo's smiling, concerned face. 

"There you are!" she greeted them. "Goodness, that reminds me--it must be simply awful in there. I haven't cleaned anything since Toichi passed away..." 

"It's okay, Mom." Kaito stepped out, leaving Shinichi to hold the door open as he set his burdens aside. "I did a bit of cleaning when I started working in there. Well, there's still a lot of dark corners...but it's not as bad as you think." 

"Not bad," Shinichi added with a snort, poking his head out the door. "Just a few dust bunnies as big as I am." 

Kaito grinned down at his cousin, reaching back through to lift him out. "Then they must not be all that big, huh?" 

"Shut _uuup_..." The small boy rolled his eyes. "When I get back to my real size again, I'm gonna have a _talk_ with you about that." 

"Ooooh, look at me shaking..." 

"Yeah, yeah...so put me down already." 

Fumiyo laughed softly, surprising them both. Kaito blinked at his mother briefly--he hadn't heard her _giggle_ like that in quite a while; it was a lot like how happy she was to be spending time with Yukiko again. Shinichi--still clutched in Kaito's arms like a dangling kitten--seemed startled just to be laughed at, and while having an argument no less. 

When Fumiyo's laughter finally stopped, she wiped her eyes and looked at them with a mixture of happy reminiscience and melancholy memory--and perhaps not all the tears were from laughter. "I'm sorry," she said, smiling at them. "You two just remind me so much of...Toichi and Yuusaku..." 

The mention of the two missing fathers made the boys go still and quiet, not quite frowning. The feelings evoked in both of them were bittersweet indeed, just as it must have been for Fumiyo; a reminder of broken bonds and happier times all at once, the kinds of memories that often drew both tears and smiles. 

Seeing their reactions, Fumiyo was quick to shake her head, scolding herself for being nostalgic. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I really am...I just remember so many times when we were younger--Toichi and Yuusaku would go on at each other like that, in their big-brother little-brother way, and Yukiko and I couldn't even get them to stop at the dinner table..." She laughed softly, shortly, again. "Sorry to have brought that up...oh--I brought snacks enough for two hungry boys. Help yourselves!" 

The two of them blinked again at her sudden smile, as she dabbed at the last of her laughter tears and turned away to point them at the large tray of food on the little low table she'd brought in and set down. There were two plates piled high with two different kinds of cookies--and a pot of the promised warm tea to drink, two cups, and plentiful napkins. 

Kaito's eyes went wide, any frowns lost in a sudden look of delight. "You made chocolate chip cookies?" 

"Kaito...hey, are you listening? Attention please..." As his cousin stared, enraptured, at the treats awaiting them, Shinichi wriggled in his grip, complaining. "Hey! I'd like my feet back on the floor, if you don't mind." 

"Huh? Oh..." As if he'd completely forgotten he was still holding the smaller boy--and in the face of chocolate-chip cookies, he most likely _had_--Kaito set him down, looking somewhat abashed. "Sorry." 

Smoothing his rumpled shirt, Shinichi fixed him with a _look_. However, that look quickly shifted into a mischievous grin that took Kaito completely by surprise. "Gotcha!" the boy smirked, for the second time that evening--and darted over to the snack tray like a shot. 

"Hey!" Kaito squawked, left flat-footed for a moment before lurching after him. "No fair! Dibs on the chocolate chips! Hey, no! Don't eat them all!" 

Fumiyo burst out laughing at the two of them fighting over the snack platter. Much to Kaito's horror, Shinichi had beaten him to the plate of chocolate chip cookies and snatched one up to gobble it. In retaliation, Kaito snatched at _him_, and managed to drag the boy away from the tray. Shinichi let out a muffled protest--very muffled, since with his mouth full of cookie he looked rather like a small chipmunk. 

"Boys, boys!" she called into the fracas, raising her voice to be heard over Kaito's complaints and Shinichi's mumblings--well, yelling, once he swallowed his mouthful. Once she elicited some quiet she stood over them amusedly with hands on her hips. "I know you've both been spoiled only-children your whole lives, but if you expect to work together you're going to have to learn how to _share_. Really, I thought you'd learned that in preschool..." 

Embarassed, both of them separated, Shinichi brushing cookie crumbs from his chin and looking almost surprised at himself. "Sorry, Obasan." 

"I'm the last person who's going to chide you for having fun, Shin-chan," Fumiyo replied, smiling reassuringly at him. "But it's getting later, and I know you'll have to go home sooner than you want to." 

"If _he_ won't eat all the snacks, _I'll_ go get the stuff," Kaito piped up with a miffed glare at the cookie thief. 

At long last, Shinichi gave into the boyish urge to stick his tongue out. Snorting, Kaito replied in kind, heading back across the room to fetch the almost-forgotten stack of blueprints and plans. Fumiyo helpfully gathered a few cushions and two bean bag chairs and brought them over by the snack tray. 

"Thanks, Mom," Kaito said, plopping down on the soft chair and setting his load down on the bare floor. "Here we are--one safe-storage facility, blueprints and initial data." Sorting the rolls and the papers out in some semblance of order, he concentrated on his task for a moment before glancing up at the others, just briefly, his nimble hands hesitating. "Um...not used to doing this stuff _with_ people..." 

"Don't mind me," Fumiyo told him. "Your father and I used to talk about such things all the time. I don't even bat an eye, really." 

Kaito raised an eyebrow at her--then glanced at his cousin, who stood across from him, looking down at the charts with some trepidation. "Uh, Shinichi, you don't..." 

"No." The boy shook his head, interrupting Kaito's hesitant words. He sidled over and sat down in the second bean bag chair, small knees drawn up and his arms folded around them. "Just...just go on. I said I would." 

With an indistinct--and not entirely sincere--shrug, Kaito went back to laying out the papers. "This is what I've got--been casing the place for almost a month. It's pretty tight, a nice private well-funded facility." 

"Do you have all the information?" Shinichi asked, uncurling a bit to lean forward. "Number of guards, shift changes, employee schedules, police response, that sort of thing?" 

"Ummm..." Kaito leafed through several papers, searching. "I thought I had at least some of that...where the hell did I put it?" Looking suddenly chagrined, he winced at his mother's frown at his use of language. "Sorry... Shoot, I must've left it in my room. I'll be right back--don't eat all the cookies!" 

With a hop and a leap, the young thief was out the door, and his thumping footsteps could be heard heading rapidly down the hall and up the stairs. When he was gone, Shinichi stared down at the blueprints and sighed. 

There was silence for a while, as Fumiyo's easygoing air began to fade into a motherly look of concern. She watched the small boy at her feet for long moments, seeing how still he was, spotting the tension in his narrow shoulders. 

"Shin-chan..." she began softly, quietly, so as not to be heard outside this room. 

"Mm?" He didn't look up. 

Fumiyo didn't beat about the bush; she wasn't like that. She got straight to the point. "I heard raised voices in there. Was everything all right?" 

The small form flinched--he knew what she was talking about. "It's...nothing, Obasan. It's fine." 

"Shin-chan..." She didn't believe him for a minute. She knelt down at his side, touching his small shoulder. "Kaito doesn't want to force you into anything. If this is making you that uncomfortable, just say so. You don't have to do this." 

He almost seemed to tremble under her touch, still tense. "I-it's not that," he confessed quietly. "I just...don't know...what..." He let out an exasperated breath. "I don't even know what I'm trying to say..." 

"Did Kaito do something to make you angry?" Fumiyo asked. "I'll make sure he apologizes if he--" 

"No!" Shinichi turned to face her at last, shaking his head. "No--it's not him. And...it is. I don't know..." 

Fumiyo remained silent, knowing from long experience in raising her own son that all her nephew needed was time to speak. 

Shinichi glanced down again, swallowing. "It's almost like...he's trying to push me into this...or make me into something...but he's _not_. He hasn't done anything like that...it's just...God, I can hardly explain it. He...he said something about being 'one of us' and..." His voice faded to an embarassed whisper as he ducked his head. "I just got so scared for a second...I yelled at him...and I didn't _mean_ to, I just..." 

"Shin-chan, it's okay." She squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. 

"But it's not!" he protested, barely raising his head. "I snapped at him like that...and he really hasn't _made_ me do anything--he just leads the way and I keep _following_...I shouldn't be doing this, and I _know_ that, but I just keep following him...and I don't know _why_..." 

Fumiyo regarded him silently for several seconds. "My son would never make you do something you didn't want to do," she told him softly. "Honestly, Shin-chan...he thinks the world of you. If it seems like he's pulling you in...well, he probably is, but not in the way you might think." 

His gaze flicked up to her, shadowed and wondering. 

"He's...trying to pull you _closer_, I think," Fumiyo went on quietly. "Kaito has always been just a little bit lonely...especially since he took up his father's mantle. To hear him talk...oh, sometimes he just _goes on_, he's so excited about being able to know you. I hardly ever see him..._shine_ like that, since his father died. And you two are so alike, just like your fathers were, and maybe even more--like you could be kindred spirits, too..." 

Shinichi's blue eyes were wide, troubled and contrite. "Obasan, I didn't mean to yell at him." 

"Shin-chan, it's okay..." Fumiyo touched his cheek lightly before drawing back. 

The sound of a light cough brought both of them around. Kaito stood in the doorway, a sheaf of paper in hand, looking solemn. "I, uh, brought the stuff," he offered quietly. 

Clearing her throat, Fumiyo stood up. "All right then!" she said brightly, bringing back a smile worthy of the acting skills of Yukiko Kudo herself. "I'll leave you be--no fighting, now, you hear? Or else I'll take the cookies away and separate you two." 

Shinichi fought off a smile, and Kaito snorted. "Yes, Mom," he said obediently. 

Fumiyo stepped to the door, pausing to pick up the towel that had been discarded there on the floor. She glanced back at Shinichi as she did, with a soft, understanding smile. Then she was gone, humming softly as she vanished down the hall. 

If Kaito had overheard anything, he didn't mention it. He stayed remarkably quiet, however, as he dropped back to his spot on the bean bag chair and spread out the handful of notebook paper he'd brought with him. 

After a few moments of silence, Shinichi cleared his throat. "Kaito?" 

"Hm?" The young magician looked up from his notes as he laid them out carefully in order. 

"Back there...in your dad's room...I'm sorry I..." 

"It's fine. Just forget about it." With a strangely _genuine_ smile and a final shrug, Kaito sat back and surveyed his work. "Here you go. This is all the rest of the information I have--the guards and employees, when their rotations are, where their patrol patterns go...the only thing I _don't_ have is police response, but that's not an issue. When I go in, they should already _be_ there." 

Cocking an eyebrow at the gleam in his cousin's eye, Shinichi picked up the sheet detailing guard posts and rotations. "How do you get this stuff, anyway?" 

"Good old-fashioned legwork," Kaito answered offhand. "A few well-placed questions, a little undercover investigation, a quick peek at the secretary's files...and you'd be surprised how easily people open up to a pretty face." 

Now Shinichi was _really_ giving him a _look_. "I do _not_ want to know." 

Kaito just snickered. "All that aside, here's the game plan: This is a pretty tight lock-box, so I've got to get in, open the correct safe, fetch the target, and get back out with enough clearance to disappear." 

"Pretty tight, huh? That's an understatement..." Carefully comparing the notes on the patterns of the guards with the blueprints themselves, Shinichi raised his eyebrows. "Getting in and out of here is going to be pretty tough, even for you. It's just one dead end after another." 

Kaito leaned over the blueprint. "Yeah. Whoever designed this place did their job--few windows, tons of blind hallways, a lot of auto-locking doors, all different sorts of locks from combos to keys to fingerprints...it's a mess. I don't know how they manage to get anything done there, but they do. It's designed to make a _thief's_ job harder, that's for sure." 

"I assume you've already checked off the ventilation system." It was not a question; the boy's small finger traced the lines of a duct shaft with a disapproving look. 

Kaito nodded. "Yup. Too small for anybody to fit through. _You_ might, though..." 

"Watch me _not_ volunteer." Shinichi tossed him a sardonic glance. "This is your nut to crack, Kaito." 

"Aw, I thought you were here to help..." The teenaged thief put on his best puppy-faced look. 

"I am helping." Shinichi glanced back down at the building diagram, then at another sheet of note paper to one side. "You won't have any trouble with the key or combination locks, but the fingerprint ones are another matter." 

"They can be fooled, but it doesn't always work, and it's a pain if it doesn't." With a shrug, Kaito leaned back on his bean bag chair. "The problem is, there's _three_ of them between me and the shortest route in or out of my target's safe. I might get lucky with two of them, then get royally screwed on the third..." 

"Too chancy, then." 

"It's not that I _can't_ do it--I could, you know." 

"Look, if I was on the receiving end of this heist, I'd have you the moment you showed your fluttery cape in that building," Shinichi stated, looking his cousin flatly in the eye. 

"Ooo, that sounds like a challenge," Kaito shot back with a grin. "Wanna try it?" 

Shinichi blinked at him for a second. "You mean you _want_ me to hand you your ass in a top hat?" 

"Confident, aren't we?" 

"Look who's talking." The small boy frowned at the young thief. "Seriously, do you want to take a chance on some police detective getting lucky?" 

"They've never been lucky before, but..." With a sigh, Kaito's chuckles died down. "Yeah, I would really be asking for it if Hakuba showed up." 

"Which safe is it?" 

"Third floor," Kaito replied, leaning forward to point at a numbered rectangle on the blueprint. "This one." 

"Hm." Shinichi once more scanned the blueprint, absentmindedly munching on a cookie. He focussed on the target safe, the hallway, the stairwell, the multiple doors, the locks and the wiring. "No windows here," he commented softly, almost to himself. "And I'll bet the doors automatically lock down if the power goes out." 

Kaito cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the page of his notes which contained that data--one that Shinichi had not seen. "Bingo." 

Shinichi finished the cookie, still tracing the blueprint carefully with his eyes as if memorizing it. Kaito remained silent, curious, watching him intently though the boy did not notice the scrutiny at all, focussed on the papers in front of him. Ignoring Kaito's observation, Shinichi picked up one page of notes, then another, comparing the information there to the actual locations and dimensions on the blueprint. 

Finally, the small boy looked up from his calculations. "I think it's too risky," he stated at last, looking Kaito in the eye. 

The teenage thief blinked at him for a moment, then threw up his hands with a snort, dropping his note pages. "Oh, that helps a lot! Sheesh, I didn't ask you to come here and tell me it can't be done. Look, I can do it--with or without you. I just wanted you to tell me what you thought--" 

"That _is_ what I think, baka," Shinichi retorted, breaking into his cousin's indignant grumbling. "See? Their guard patterns are overlayed--no hallway is ever unguarded, even during a shift change. And even if you disguised yourself as a guard and snuck in that way--which would be very hard since the guards have no reason to enter the inner safe halls and you _would_ be questioned--if you messed up on cracking the safe itself the alarm would go off and you'd be under lockdown. _Full_ lockdown. That means no fooling the print locks, because they shut down. And there's no windows to get out. Do you understand?" 

"I already _know_ that," Kaito replied, frowning at Shinichi's intent glare. "That's why I asked you if you had any ideas. Like I said, I don't need you to tell me it can't be done--a phantom thief is _supposed_ to do the impossible..." 

"I didn't say it couldn't be done." The small boy looked down at the blueprint, then pulled forth one of Kaito's note sheets, this one marked out in a calendar. "I just said that going _in_ would be too risky." 

Kaito blinked again. "Then...what are you talking about?" 

"Simple." Shinichi looked up at him again, this time with a rather clever little smile. "Why don't you make them bring it out _for_ you?" 

"_For_ me...?" Kaito opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again, looking perplexed. "Uh, I know Kid can be persuasive, but I don't think just asking them is gonna work..." 

"Idiot. It's right here." Picking up another paper, this one with rotation schedules on it, Shinichi scooted over to Kaito's side and placed the calendar sheet in his cousin's hands. "Look. The only person who's authorized to open those safes is the storage building's owner, right? And he can only do that when the owner of the safe's contents is with him--the two-key system. And they have a schedule for that, too--see? They only open safes on Sundays and Thursdays. That makes things nice and simple." 

"So...you're saying I should masquerade as the jewel's owner?" Kaito asked, peering at the hand-written calendar. "That...would take some work. I'm sure they'd want all sorts of ID and stuff..." 

Shinichi shook his head. "No, I already thought of that, and it wouldn't work. You'd have to go get the key from the owner, and you're right--you'd have to come up with some kind of credentials, and that goes into forgery I'm sure neither of us wants to chance." 

"So then, how...?" 

"Both owners can do your work for you," Shinichi replied, an almost-eager glimmer to his eyes. "It's easy--look, right here. The safe-storage's owner is going out of town the end of next week for his daughter's wedding. He's going to be gone for two weeks." 

"And that helps us how?" 

Shinichi shook his head. "Why are you being so dense? If you were the owner of a big important jewel and you got a message from Kaitou Kid stating that it was going to be stolen from its safe, what would you do?" 

"Call the cops, for one thing..." 

"Yeah, and what else?" 

"I'd..." Kaito blinked once more, comprehension dawning. "I'd get my jewels the hell out of that safe and hide them somewhere before Kid arrived." 

"He finally gets it!" With a boyish laugh, Shinichi grinned at him. "I can't believe you didn't think of that! It's so obvious--just send a note that panics the jewel's owner, and he'll rush to get his valuables out before the storage owner leaves. They'll be walking that stuff right out the very front door--easy pickings for you. And out in the open you can be as flashy as you like." 

Kaito stared at the schedule, the calendar, then at his small cousin. "Shinichi...you're...an absolute _genius_, you know that?" 

Shinichi caught the joking smile and grinned again. "I've been accused of that occasionally." 

"You're right, I can't believe I didn't think of that," Kaito chuckled shaking his head. "But then again, I'm used to figuring ways of getting _in_, not tricking people into getting things for me." 

"Why not? It's almost the same thing you did to make Inspector Nakamori tell you where they hid the Memories Egg," Shinichi said with a shrug. "Only then you used your actions to trick them into giving you their location, not your words." 

"So you're just suggesting I take it a step further here." In celebration, Kaito snatched a couple of cookies. "I send a riddle that makes them think I'm coming for their goods, they take the goods and run, only I'm there waiting to pick their pockets as they scurry out the front door..." He chomped a cookie, suddenly thoughtful. "I've gotta know for sure when they go for it." 

"That's easy," Shinichi replied with a shrug. "Send your little note so that it arrives just before the owner's last day. Here...if you send it after next Sunday, the only day they'll have left to act is the following Thursday--and then the owner leaves for two weeks. They won't chance that. Set your date for that Thursday." 

"How can you be sure they won't just lock things down tighter?" 

"They won't." Shinichi grinned again. "Your reputation's going to do the talking this time. They know Kid doesn't fail, so they'll think that you can go right past all those locks and alarms. They'll panic, and they'll want to get their belongings out and hide them from you." 

"Damn..." Kaito shook his head. "You sure know how to mess with people's minds. You'd be downright _scary_ if you were a real thief." 

"Don't even go there." Shinichi's grin disappeared into a frown. "And look who's talking--you're the one who freaks people out with flash grenades and smoke and mirrors." 

"Yeah, but that's...well...tricking people is one thing," Kaito stated softly, glancing at the sketchy calendar. "And I can do that. I do it all the time. But this idea of yours is more like...like..." 

"Manipulation?" Shinichi finished for him. "Yeah, I know. But I actually do this sort of thing all the time. I have to use words to trap my suspects into taking the wrong step--what else do I have? I can't pop around with a top hat and steal a confession like you steal a gem." 

"I guess..." Kaito shrugged vaguely; Shinichi's idea, while brilliant, skirted the edge of _his_ comfort zone in terms of what he viewed as "fair" during a heist. And it almost didn't seem very _fair_ to trick these men into all but handing him their belongings. It wasn't like sneaking in under Nakamori's nose to make a crown jewel vanish in a puff of smoke--it was like telling a total lie to force someone's hand, to make them move out of their place and into his own trap. Granted, he did stuff _sort of_ like that during his heists...but nothing like _this_. 

"Well, there you have it," Shinichi announced, finishing off another cookie and flopping back on the cushion next to Kaito. "You asked what I think, and that's it." 

"Yeah, thanks," Kaito replied, leaning back on his hands to regard the boy. "It's a great idea, even if it's a bit unconventional for me." 

Shinichi gave a snort of laughter. "Never thought I'd hear _you_ call something unconventional." 

"Well, it _is_," Kaito retorted lightly. "The most I'm used to is tricking people into showing me where they hid something--not into actually _handing_ me the goods." 

"Do it your way if you like." Shinichi shrugged, trying to look unconcerned, although a flicker of worry briefly darkened his eyes. 

Kaito caught that flicker, even as he pretended to ignore it. "Naw...I think I'll try your idea." _What a change. It almost feels **weird**, knowing you really don't want me to get caught. But...it feels good, too..._ "Heh. This could really be interesting, you know? Bet it'll give Inspector Nakamori _fits_. I wonder what _other_ nifty ideas you've got up your sleeves, huh?" 

At his cousin's snicker, Shinichi let the corner of his mouth quirk. "Plenty that could still catch you even if you used my plan." 

"Yeah, _right_..." 

The two of them turned to glance at one another, sharing an unexpected grin--a playful, rogueish grin that was equal parts challenge, agreement, and acceptance, mirrored on both faces and dancing in both sets of dark blue eyes. There were sparks to it, as well as mirth; it was the grin of children and thieves at play. 

Shinichi would probably never realize how much of the kaitou was in his grin. Kaito saw it, but he never said a word. 

"Is the tea still hot?" Shinichi asked, sitting up again. 

Kaito's reached out with a longer arm to touch the pot. "Not _hot_...um, sorta warm?" 

"That's fine." The small boy scooted over to the tray--long since emptied of all but a couple of cookies--and started pouring himself a cup. "I need something to drink after all this talking." 

"I better start putting all this junk away," Kaito said, picking up a few sheets of notebook paper to begin putting things back in order. It wouldn't do for anyone to stumble across his little trove of plans. 

"Is that it?" Shinichi glanced at him over the rim of his cup. 

"Pretty much. I think you covered all the bases." Kaito grinned at his small cousin again, eliciting a quirked eyebrow. "All that's left for me to do is work out a riddle and put my equipment together for the heist." 

The teen thief did _not_ miss the definite gleam in the little boy's eyes at the word "equipment." Really, he'd had no idea his cousin was so entranced by the tools of the Trade. "You can help with that too, if you like," Kaito offered, hiding his humorous smile. 

"_Really?_" The exclamation burst out before Shinichi could rein his voice in, making him flush at his own over-eagerness. "I mean, all those gadgets and things you use have got to be fairly interesting..." 

Kaito managed to contain his amusement to a single snort. "_Fairly_ interesting. Wanna come by again sometime and see?" 

"Sure, I could do that." The boy continued to feign only vague interest. 

"Great. Now come help me carry this stuff." 

Shinichi rolled his eyes--since when did a high school student need help from a shrimpy first grader?--but set down his mostly-empty cup and complied. He carried folders of papers while Kaito carefully rolled up the blueprints and bore them back to the secret door. Once there, Kaito lifted his small cousin through the entrance and passed the items to him, making the work much quicker than when the young thief did it on his own and had to fight the spring-loaded revolving door. 

Inside, the pair set their burdens down at Kaito's desk; Kaito himself began to sort the papers back into the semi-messy filing system he had there--making certain to keep the blueprints uncreased--while Shinichi watched boredly. 

Watched--that is, until an oh-so-interesting bit of shape caught his eye from a small box on a shelf beside where Kaito worked. His ever-present curiosity grabbed his attention by the nose, and in a moment he was right there, heaving himself up on one of the shelves, using it as a ladder to peer over the rim of the box. 

"..._gotta_ remember to clean this up _someday_," Kaito grumbled to himself as he attempted to keep his rather precarious stacks of paper, files, notes, and perhaps even lost homework from tipping off the desk as he worked. He kept half an eye on his curious cousin--which became a full eye the moment the small boy poked his nose into the box. "Careful there, those are a bit explosive." 

Shinichi blinked, but didn't withdraw. "Flash grenades?" he inquired, still eyeing the many small, ovoid shapes. 

"Bingo. Don't knock 'em off the shelf, okay?" 

"Right..." Giving the box a wide berth, Shinichi turned his persual to another next to it. "And it looks like smoke bombs here. You make these yourself?" 

"Mostly," Kaito replied absently, paging through one last folder to decide where to put it. "Jii gets the stuff for me." 

"What's with all the colors?" Shinichi leaned out from the shelf to glance at his cousin. "I mean, really--_pink_ smoke bombs?" 

Kaito flashed him a grin, turning to lean against the edge of the desk. "It's all about effect, my friend. The flashbombs come in colors too--helps me create the right atmosphere for every job. If I wanna be brisk, I pick blue or purple; if I wanna be creepy, I pick green." 

"What about pink?" 

"Oh, that's the old stock-in-trade--good for every fun, happy occasion." 

Shinichi shot him a look. "It's _pink_." 

Kaito just grinned. 

"So you make all these yourself," Shinichi went on, going back to the boxes on the shelves. "Then they have to be from things you can get at a chemistry or fireworks store..." 

"Most of them. Other things...Jii says it's best if I don't ask. At least not yet." 

"Hm." Bits of shiny metal caught his gaze above; without hesitating, Shinichi pulled himself up another shelf to look into _that_ box. "Cable pulleys? Is this--_awp!_" 

He was cut off when Kaito jumped forward, catching the small boy beneath the arms and pulling him away from the shelf. "Take it easy, eager beaver. You're gonna knock the whole thing over." 

As he was placed back on the floor, Shinichi gave the shelf unit a wistful, disgruntled stare. "You have _no_ idea how annoying it is to be short," he grumbled, casting about for something interesting closer to ground level. 

Kaito shrugged apologetically. "I just don't want you to fall. Or blow up my dad's room if you spill the boxes." 

"Give me _some_ credit. I've been climbing on stuff for a long time now. Out of necessity." Shinichi glanced with distaste at the full-length mirror by the entrance--frowning at the small shape reflected there-- then stood still, hands in pockets, to stare at the painting that graced the _back_ of the revolving door. 

Not the warm, playful, smiling depiction of his uncle, the famous Toichi Kuroba--but a shadowed, kinetic, mysterious image of Kaitou Kid. An enigmatic phantom caught for an instant--a moment in time, a freeze-frame of the ever-shifting Kid, suspended in oil paint. It could have been Toichi or Kaito; Kid was Kid, features indistinguishable but for the moonlit flash on the monocle. 

It reminded Shinichi of his first face-to-face meeting with the phantom thief, tickling goosebumps onto his skin at the memory of the cold wind and the starlit form of his nemesis. 

But Kid _wasn't_ an enemy now. _Kaito_ wasn't. More than he ever would have thought possible even two weeks ago, he was deeply involved in the conspiracy that was the Kid--the conspiracy that was his own family. They were _friends_ now, he and Kaito--he'd become as relaxed around his cousin as he was around any of his closest companions. 

Why then did this image make him tingle all over, make his muscles tighten with the faint edges of adrenaline, make his heartbeat kick up a notch as if in anticipation... 

...of what? 

Kaito watched his diminutive cousin stare at the image of the notorious thief, noting the boy's strange keen edge and expectant gaze. It was the strangest mirror, he pondered to himself; somehow the child and the phantom seemed like genuine reflections. More hidden than himself, of course--but still _there_, if one knew how to look. 

He was gripped by the sudden desire to see it clearly, and to _share_, and in a fit of impulsiveness he grasped his own hat from the stand by the desk and tossed it with a magician's accuracy. It seemed to float across the distance between himself and his target, suspended in the air like a fluttering dove before it came softly to rest. 

Shinichi jumped when something light dropped onto his head--something hollow and silk-smooth that fell down around his ears, resting on his nose, blocking his vision. Startled, he grasped at it, finding his hands closing on the brim of a hat. Blinking, he pushed it back enough to see; puzzled, he glanced over at Kaito, who stood near the hat-rack, smiling at him. It was a strange smile, mixing the daunting phantom thief with a lonely teenage boy, and the gentle welcome of a brother. 

Then the mirror next to him caught the corner of his eye--just a flash of movement--and he glanced at it. Shock chilled him for half a moment, seeing his own little-boy form wearing the bright white top hat of Kaitou Kid. For the other half of that moment, all he could do was stare at the unforgiving image the mirror presented him with, the blue-eyed, top-hatted visage of--of-- 

"It kinda suits you." 

Kaito's low voice made him jerk; though he had spoken with a wryly contemplative tone, to Shinichi it was as if his cousin had flung hateful, venomous words in his face. His temper flared hot once again, and his small hands ripped the hat from his head as if preparing to throw it to the ground. 

"_I am **not**--!_" 

The barest beginnings of his ragged, angry shout was cut off by the profound _Poker Face_ that slammed down on Kaito's features like a mask--a _shield_, a hand flung up to ward off a charging aggresor. Though the youth never outwardly moved, it was as though he had taken many long steps backward. 

He had already been rebuffed harshly once today; he did not want his entreating hand slapped away yet again... 

Seeing his cousin withdraw, Shinichi _stopped_; his anger sputtered away, his guilt from his earlier outburst overshadowing it. He suddenly felt _horrible_--attacking his cousin for nothing more than an opinion expressed, getting all bent out of shape for nothing but the _truth_... 

His hands relaxed on the brim of the hat. Kaito's eyes were so flat, as if Shinichi had become some stranger on the street; unable to bear his cool gaze, the boy looked down at the hat in his hands, at the dusty floor, already ashamed of his outburst. 

"Kaito...I..." His fingers trailed over one of the tiny nicks in the hat's brim, though his preoccupied conscious mind didn't actively wonder what had made it. "I'm sorry." 

Since he was looking down, he didn't see the hesitant flicker in Kaito's eyes--a rabbit peeping from a burrow. "It's okay," the teen thief replied, as if discussing the weather. "I guess I was pushing it again." 

"It's _not_ okay," Shinichi retorted, still kicking himself. "I keep flying off the handle at you for no good reason, just because--" 

"You've had a tough time the last few days," Kaito interrupted, his voice softening a little. "And I haven't been real considerate of that, I guess. I don't blame you for snapping when I poke you where it hurts." 

Shinichi flinched. "I should be _over_ that by now..." 

A sigh from Kaito made him look up. When he did, he was almost surprised to see the relaxing of the mask--slowly, surely, the Poker Face was melting. "You and me," his cousin said, "we're pulling different directions--maybe that's why we keep rubbing the wrong way. You're still not sure and you're testing the waters. I'm the one who's all gung-ho and ready to dive in." 

Shinichi shrugged fitfully, glancing once more at the mirror--at the small figure holding the hat. "I've never had such a hard time just..._dealing_ with something," he confessed uncomfortably. "Not even Conan. This...this is..." 

Kaito remained silent, fighting off the unfamiliar creeping of guilt. He really was pushing too hard, and he knew that. But part of him was just so glad to have found something like a kindred spirit, it was hard _not_ to want to pull Shinichi full speed into his own world. 

"I'm sorry," the small boy said softly, fingering the hat brim. "And I mean that. It's not _you_ I'm mad at...it's...I guess...it scares me how much a piece of me enjoys this. Even if I know I shouldn't take part in something like this..." 

"But you are part of this," Kaito blurted, surprising both himself and Shinichi, who looked up again. Chagrined at his slip, the young thief pressed on bravely, half expecting another flaming outburst from his cousin. "Like it or not...whether you knew it or not...you _are_ a part of this. Part of this family. You were in this just like me, and even if your dad took you away you're _still_ part of this, and you can't change that." 

Shinichi stared up at Kaito for long moments, wide eyes searching, reading. His hands tightened on the brim of the top hat as he saw the pleading _Don't go away_ in his cousin's half-guarded gaze; with that thread of empathy came sudden understanding that dawned like the sunrise itself. 

"I'm not a thief," he stated firmly, allowing his lips to form the faintest smile, "but I _am_ your cousin. I'm not denying who I am, and I'm not denying _you_. I don't think a thief's methods are the right ones, but I'm not going to walk out on you just because we disagree. Family...has to mean more than that." 

Kaito did an admirable job of hiding the relief in his expression--long practice being a major help. He smiled for the first time since the beginning of the outburst, a glimmer of his accustomed humor returning. "Yeah..." he agreed, standing up from the desk edge. "Even if you're the only detective in a whole family of thieves...I guess I can see past that one fault." He grinned now, almost teasingly. "The Kuroba ancestors must be turning backflips in their graves--Heaven forbid, one of our own went and turned law-abiding!" 

Shinichi's smile wavered for an instant--as if his hard-won progress was about to collapse once again--before he thrust aside his hesitations and returned his cousin's smile. "I guess I _am_ the black sheep of the family. Or a white sheep in a whole family of black ones..." 

At Kaito's chuckling snort, Shinichi's smile became an equal grin, something of the kaitou's edge creeping into it once again, daring and bold. His uncertainty and trepidation seemed to have withdrawn to a far away place, giving him the same fearlessness that usually came with confronting a murderer. "Black or white," he continued softly, "a sheep is still a sheep." 

With what was almost a flourish, he placed the bright white hat upon his own head once more, pulling it low on his brows so that--despite its laughable size on him--the image presented was daunting. Sharp blue eyes glittered with muted mischief, laughing silently at the brand new trick they had played on their unsuspecting audience. 

Kaito's jaw dropped. For a moment his expression was so blankly surprised that not even a good Poker Face would have saved him; he stared at the small top-hatted figure in amazement and something that bordered on appreciation. No one could have mistaken him for the notorious Kaitou Kid--instead, he rather resembled one of the fish he so hated, with round eyes and gaping mouth. 

"What?" Shinichi asked in response to his cousin's astonished stare, his grin clearly becoming _playful_. "You _did_ say it sort of suited me, didn't you?" 

Kaito's mouth shut with a near-audible _click_. As he picked up his own scattered wits, he managed a smile of his own, accompanied by an accepting nod. 

There was another knock on the painting-door of the secret room, which startled the two within. "Kaito?" came Fumiyo's somewhat-muffled voice from outside. "Dinner's ready--and I assume Shin-chan's going to be eating with us. Come on, you two!" 

The two boys glanced at each other, still smiling; his confidence restored, Shinichi plucked the hat off his head, marched over to Kaito, and placed it back in the young thief's hands. "Well, you heard your mother," the little boy stated wryly, heading back for the door. "Let's go!" 

Kaito stared at his hat for a moment, his fingers gripping the brim much like the smaller ones of his cousin had. His expression deepened, just for an instant--then he placed the hat back on its hook and followed his small companion, grinning once more. "Right. I'm right behind you." 

  
_To be continued..._

  
  
**AN:** _Happy Halloween! Thank you everyone for your generous patience while I got my act together and finished this chapter. Sorry to make you wait so long! Next time I had better get it done a bit faster, ne? Must kick myself into gear; it can be hard trying to keep two serials from one fandom straight inside one's head, especially with as many character Muses as I have running around. @_@ Wish me luck... _

Also, major thankyous to Ysabet and Loqi for rescuing me with chapter title ideas! As always, y'all really saved my arse again. ^_^ Thankies much for your thoughts and suggestions! They gave me just what I needed and I really appreciate it! 


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